A Change of Heart
by arianedartagnan
Summary: Protected by a powerful magical shield called the Aegis, Athens in 1490 is a bubble of paradise amid a world collapsing from the Plague's assault. When the Aegis itself begins to fail, four young mages from the local orphanage must join forces to save their city and their home.
1. Monday March 1, 1490

_**Part I: Blaze** _

**Monday March 1, 1490**

6:00 a.m. on a Monday morning. That cursed dog of mine woke me by licking me all over my face, and, for good measure, both my hands. "Timotheus," I threatened for the hundredth time, "Today is the day I'm selling you to the slave market!" But did he look even the slightest bit repentant? No, of course not. All he did was shake himself out, wheat-gold fur flying everywhere (guess who'd have to sweep that up?), and then hop off my bed to press his nose to the door.

In the other bed, Ynez moaned and flopped over, burrowing under the covers more securely. At this rate she was going to make us late to morning Enochian lecture yet again, and Astera would scold us again or, worse, give us one of those looks that said we were a disgrace to House Criamon, she didn't know why she'd admitted us to the orphanage in the first place, much less the House, and if we didn't develop a sense of responsibility she was going to demote both of us. At fourteen, Ynez was by far the youngest Adepta Maior we'd ever heard of, and I, at eighteen, had just been assigned the heady position of head (well only) librarian and was no more eager than Ynez for public humiliation in front of our brother- and sister-orphans. Especially when I'd grown up with most of them and they merrily flaunted my authority. Especially when Tel, my Twin Soul, would only laugh and say that I needed to relax.

Obviously there were many excellent reasons for shaking Ynez awake. But she was sleeping so soundly that I couldn't bear to.

Instead I dressed and opened the door as quietly as I could, then slipped out into the dark hallway. The dratted puppy nearly tripped me as he darted right between my legs to scratch at Tel's door, which was next to ours. I thought I heard a whuff from either Lily or Gus, who were not only Timo's but also Tel's parents in the bizarre way of Ars Animae, or Life magic. Not that I'd told Tel yet. I hadn't figured out a good way to say, "By the way, you know how your parents vanished when you were eight and these two friendly dogs started following you everywhere? They're your parents. You accidentally turned them into dogs. Oh, and Timo is your full brother. But I'm pretty sure he's entirely dog and not some crazy dog-human hybrid." Tel was one of the most mellow people I knew and would take it well (probably), but I wanted to do more research into dog-to-human transformations before saying anything.

Anyway, Tel was a heavy sleeper and very definitely not a morning person, so Timo's scratching failed to wake him. The two of us continued through the rest of the dormitory building, passing silent room after silent room. What angels the children were when they were asleep! Awake, they were constantly stealing books from the library just to annoy me, or getting into screaming fights in the yard, or whining at me to "help with" (i.e. do) their homework. For all my exasperation at Timo for waking me early, I did savor these rare moments of peace, when it was just him and me in the yard, with the orphanage buildings behind us and our cave system rising solidly on our right. Across the yard, leylines ran out from the Hearthstone, hidden somewhere deep within the Hearth caves, and branched out like aqueducts to carry magical energy throughout Athens. Not so far to the southeast soared the Acropolis, home to House Bonisagus and Hadrian's Library, and nearly directly to the east, the top of the Tower of the Winds caught the morning sunshine. I could imagine the mages of House Bjornaer emerging onto the balcony at the top to gaze out over the city as it woke. Next door to us, in the temple of Athena, the young priest Ghallim Favager, himself an orphan who'd spent a couple years with us, would be sweeping and scrubbing the marble steps before he set to work creating intricate magical artifacts, or Wonders. (Not that he believed it was magic — according to him, he merely prayed to Athena, and when the great goddess wished, she granted him boons.)

But it must be nearly 7:00 already! Calling Timo from his explorations, I hurried back into the dormitory building, noting that most of the bedrooms were open and empty already as the children dropped by the kitchen for a bite to eat before Enochian. Ynez, of course, had slept through the racket of slamming doors and running feet, so I shook her awake and then banged loudly on Tel's door.

"What is it?" he groaned.

"It's almost 7:00!" I called.

"Let me sleep a little longer."

"No! We're going to be late to class!"

"Wait...class is at 7:30. Class is _always_ at 7:30. Marina, why are you waking me now?" he moaned.

"Remember? Astera is punishing all of us for that prank Sy pulled last week."

"That's not fair."

"Yeah, well, tell _her_ that when we get to class."

A yelp inside. "Aaaargh! Gus, Lily, stop _licking_ me!"

Satisfied that his parents would shepherd their wayward offspring to class, I headed back into the yard. Now it was filled with eleven- to fourteen-year-olds screaming gleefully as they tossed a ball back and forth or chased one another across the half-dead grass. Standing at the edge of the yard, I called, "It's time for class, everyone!"

Unusually, they instantly came bouncing up, showing surprising enthusiasm for an hour of writing and reciting ancient runes. Gordon, the leader of the children, who called themselves the "mice," did complain about being forced to learn a dead language, but I lectured him on the importance of understanding the language in which magic was developed and found an unexpected ally in Sy, the self-proclaimed devotee of the trickster gods Dolos and Apate. Leading a flock of children, I ran into the outer Hearth to our classroom and stepped across the threshold just as all the clocks in the city started chiming 7:00.

Magistra Scholae Astera, the Prima, or Head, of House Criamon of the Order of Hermes, glared at all of us but singled out me (unfairly, in my opinion) and Ynez for a special scolding. "I expected more from a member of House Criamon. Tardiness is unacceptable for an Adepta, Marina," she said severely, before rounding on Ynez. I could have explained that I was only _almost_ late because I was rounding up the rest of the class for her, and if I were almost late, it was entirely their fault — but I didn't. Did the children appreciate it? Of course not.

As we slid hastily into our seats, I heard Tel whisper to Ynez, who looked as if she'd cry from chagrin, "Don't mind Astera." Timo curled up on (literally on) her feet in commiseration.

We were all saved from further scolding when Helen burst into the classroom, tugging Ghallim along behind her and insisting that he just _had_ to come to class today. In his grave manner, he greeted Astera, who was after all his former matron too, and stood statue-like by the door to watch our lessons. He exchanged a nod with Ynez, whom he and the Athenian mayor, Avaris of the Crystal White Song, had rescued from the countryside four years ago. Ynez's entire family had traveled from Spain to escape the Plague, setting out for Athens before they heard about the Obscura, and then wandered around the outskirts of the city for weeks, starving slowly and dying from disease as they tried desperately to find the city walls. When the last of Ynez's family perished, her avatar had Awakened her and ordered her to scream for help via Ars Mentis. Avaris, who practiced Mind magic, had heard her cry and summoned Ghallim, and together they had located her and brought her to the orphanage. Ynez had never forgiven House Bonisagus for building the Obscura to hide Athens from refugees and sided firmly with Avaris (who was, after all, the elected leader of our city) and others who believed that we should help as many people as we could.

Astera began the day's lesson with a review of the Spheres, an elaborate system of categorizing magical usage. "Jamie," she said, selecting the child most likely to know the types by heart, "name the nine Spheres. I want both the Hermetic and the laymen terminology." (The other magical Traditions would probably object to being called "laymen," but luckily they weren't here. Also, they were long accustomed to Hermetic arrogance.)

Sitting up straight, Jamie promptly rattled them off. "Ars Essentiae, or Forces." That was the easiest one — all Hermetics could manipulate natural forces to some degree. Out of the orphans, I was the strongest at it. "Ars Fati, or Entropy." That was my other Sphere, which influenced uncertain events. "Ars Animae, or Life." When he managed to do magic at all, Tel was quite powerful there, as evidenced by his having transformed his parents into dogs when he was only eight. "Ars Mentis, or Mind." That was one of Ynez's specialties, the other being "Ars Manes, or Spirit." All of us had grown accustomed to the light touch of her curiosity spirit, which often tagged along after us. "Ars Vis, or Prime, and Ars Temporis, or Time." Whether he knew it or not, Ghallim used Ars Vis to create his Wonders, and, less conventionally, Ars Temporis to speed up healing. Now Jamie stumbled a little, trying to remember the last two Spheres, which none of us practiced. "Umm, Ars Conjunctionis, or Correspondence." That Sphere would have been very useful, allowing us to scry or even teleport, but none of us had gotten around to studying it yet. "And the last one, umm…." Catching his eye, Helen pointed at her desk, and Jamie finished in a rush, "Ars Materiae, or Matter."

"Very good," Astera praised, choosing to overlook Helen's help.

She next reviewed how the Effects corresponding to each Sphere were divided into five ranks based on difficulty. For example, with a second rank in Ars Essentiae, you could raise a shield against fire (which was particularly useful when you lived right next to the Hearth). With a third rank, you could fly — that was definitely one of my favorites. I _had_ mastered the fourth rank as well, with which I could control major forces, but I had yet to encounter a situation where I needed to summon a storm or create an inferno. With just one more rank, I'd know how to _transmute_ the major forces, and then I could level forests or even sink fleets if I wished. All but a handful of mages throughout the world stopped at the fifth rank in a given Sphere, but it _was_ possible to achieve a sixth after decades of grueling study. Anyone who succeeded won the appellation of "archmage" and, within the Order of Hermes at least, the somewhat pompous title of Magister Mundi. (Then again, archmages of the ninth degree did tend to think highly of themselves.)

To pass the Adeptus exam and achieve formal recognition as mages of the sixth degree, Tel and I had had to demonstrate competence in the third rank in any Sphere (Ars Essentiae for both of us). Ynez was an Adepta Maior, or a mage of the seventh degree, because she had achieved four ranks in Ars Manes, three in Ars Mentis, and one in Ars Essentiae. (This meant that if I studied just one more Sphere, I could also test for Adepta Maior and catch up to her.) Ghallim probably corresponded to an Adeptus, but as he had declined to join House Criamon, he hadn't taken any of the exams and had no formal title.

The standard way in which a mage of any Tradition wielded magic was to use a Focus to guide the Effect. Most Hermetics chanted or wrote Enochian runes to channel their magic, but Astera had never discouraged us from exploring different avenues, and as a result we'd accumulated a diverse set of Foci amongst ourselves. I'd discovered that whittling little wooden figures cleared my mind for Ars Essentiae Effects, and that Ars Fati Effects flowed more naturally through the medium of poetry. Ynez liked to use candles and mirrors for Artes Manes and Mentis, although she did chant in Enochian for Ars Essentiae. Ghallim's Focus was prayer to Athena, of course, although he'd never admit it. Tel's was (or were) extremely unclear — just as unclear as the reason that he couldn't do magic deliberately.

Knowing that we rarely used Enochian, Astera assigned Ynez and me tedious busywork copying runes over and over as punishment for our almost-tardiness and then asked the others to recite aloud. Tel immediately volunteered, but his pronunciation was so terrible that I cringed and hastily focused all my attention on my own work. (Timo must have agreed with me, because he stood up, shook himself head to tail, and sauntered out of the classroom.) Blessedly for all our ears, Tel soon fell asleep in the warm room — this close to the Hearthstone, its heat was palpable. Still, if I were ever to get our shared avatar, the being inside our minds that enabled us to do magic, to her full potential, I needed him to learn how to control his magic, so from time to time I poked him. Astera's sharp eyes missed nothing, but when he felt her gaze, he unleashed his most charming smile on her, and she shook her head ruefully before going on to correct Sy's pronunciation.

Did I mention that Tel was so ridiculously handsome that Zeus was probably coming soon to bear him off to Mount Olympus, and that he happily used his charm to avoid doing whatever he didn't feel like doing? Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

Lil, who was only twelve but had Awakened already and dreamed of joining House Criamon someday, had slid all the way to the edge of her seat to peek inquisitively at Ynez's exercises. She flushed bright red when Tel caught her eye and winked. Noticing their exchange, Ynez turned to check Lil's work. I, too, peered over but was distracted by a loud sneeze from Helen.

"Oh, Marina," I heard Ynez warn me in her lilting Spanish accent, "There's something wrong —"

I spun around quickly, the motion knocking my inkwell straight off my desk into my open satchel — and completely drenching the three rare volumes of magical history that I'd sworn under penalty of being flayed alive to return to Hadrian's Library in _exactly the same condition_.

And now black ink was soaking into the precious pages.

I couldn't even remember bringing my satchel to class. Had I grabbed it when I woke Ynez? I certainly didn't remember bringing the books. Why would I ever have brought the books? Why weren't they locked safely in my desk in the library?

" — there's something wrong with that inkwell," Ynez finished a little weakly as I let out a high-pitched shriek.

She and Lil rushed over to help rescue the books, but it was much, much too late. The damage had been done. On every page, ink had obliterated the beautiful calligraphy and delicate illuminations until only the faintest outlines remained. As I sat on the floor, with ink staining my hands and clothing, staring blankly at what once had been the last extant copy of Herodotus' _De Historia Artium Magicarum_ , I was only dimly aware that Tel and the rest of the class had dissolved into hysterical laughter.

Ghallim suddenly appeared beside me. "Zees eez terrible damage!" he exclaimed in the French accent he'd never lost even after twelve years in Greece. "We should do all we can to protect ze knowledge of mankind." Taking Volume One from me, he prayed to Athena to remove the ink.

Nothing happened.

Now the ink was drying and stiffening all the pages.

"What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?" I moaned, trying hard not to cry.

Ghallim peered into my satchel and probed cautiously at the inkwell. "Eet's a minor Wonder," he said thoughtfully. "Eet was designed to teep over." Given how many Wonders he had made himself, I trusted his expertise. Not that it was much help now, unless he created an ink-eraser on the spot.

Ynez examined it too and announced, "The ink was made to soak into things. The Resonance is...studious?" Did we know anyone who performed magic with a studious Resonance?

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Astera had lifted Sy into the air using Ars Essentiae and was shouting furiously at him, "Sylvester! That was not funny! You're fourteen years old and you should know better! You're grounded for a week for disrupting class!"

"Awww, Magistra," he whined but didn't deny involvement. Sy was the ringleader in all the children's pranks, and after so many years he didn't even bother to try to maintain plausible deniability. He knew none of us would believe him anyway, and he had better things to do. Such as planning the next prank.

"Class is dismissed!" Astera announced, in too much of a rage to continue teaching.

Gordon and Jamie exchanged broad grins, but before anyone could move, a baleful aura began to pulse at the back of the classroom, where Ashton, a quiet boy who had never quite fit in, was hard at work on his Enochian exercises. Apparently they weren't going too well, because his desk was surrounded by balls of crumpled parchment. To our shock, even as we watched, the parchment balls were realigning themselves on the floor. Ominous green smoke began to rise in wisps from the smoldering pile. I stared dumbly at it, thinking, _But how can he do magic at all? He isn't even Awakened!_

Tel was the first to react. "Hey, Ashton," he called casually, "did you bring a stink bomb?"

Absorbed in his work, Ashton jerked up in surprise and gaped at the parchment balls. In just a few seconds, the green smoke had built up into a sensation of impending Paradox. Before anyone could take a step towards him, a magical shockwave threw all of us backwards and filled the classroom with an acrid green haze. I struck the edge of a desk hard and slid to the ground, all the breath knocked out of me.

"That was a Practicus-level Effect," Ynez whispered from nearby, naming a mage of the third degree. I could also sense that somehow, incredibly, Ars Manes had been involved. But what was a Sleeper child doing channeling spirits? And _how_?

For one brief, frozen moment, we lay scattered around the classroom, dazed by the explosion and choking on the smoke, and listened numbly to Ashton's painful coughing. Then Tel leaped up and dashed over to the boy, brandishing his Enochian textbook and chanting an Ars Animae incantation for a healing Effect. Miraculously, despite his atrocious accent, it partially eased the cough.

Astera, too, ran over as fast as a non-athletic middle-aged woman hampered by a long dress could be expected to run. As she dropped to her knees beside Ashton and began examining him gently, Ghallim hastily started to usher the children out of the smoky room. Most of them were also doubled over, wheezing and gasping for air.

"I'll get ze worst cases to 'Ouse Bjornaer," he called back to Astera, who nodded in a distracted way.

That left Tel, Ynez, and me in the classroom with Astera and Ashton. Well, what were Adepti and Adepti Maiores for? Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a piece of wood I was whittling into a dog and used the carving as a Focus for an Ars Essentiae Effect to blow all the smoke into a corner. Embarrassingly, it failed to do anything, and Tel laughed at what I deemed a most inappropriate time for humor.

Even more embarrassingly, Ynez recited a few Enochian runes (her Ars Essentiae Focus) and expertly compressed all the smoke into a malevolent-looking, spinning green ball. (There was a reason she outranked me and had ousted me as resident precocious child mage — not that I'd ever admit it to anyone.)

With the smoke gone, Ashton's coughing finally stopped.

At about that time, Tel belatedly realized that he'd actually done a deliberate piece of Awakened magic. "Did you _see_ that?" he asked, staring around in amazement. "I did that! I fixed Ashton!"

Astera, however, was too preoccupied with stabilizing Ashton to encourage him. "Very good, dear," she said, before calling for Ghallim to report on the other children.

"Zey are all right!" His voice drifted back in from the yard. "Zey stopped coughing as soon as I got zem away from ze smoke." As if in confirmation, we heard a childish shriek of delight, "Ghallim! I tagged you! You're It!"

At least that was one less thing to worry about.

Too excited to feel rebuffed, Tel turned to me. "It _worked_ , Marina!" He paused and frowned. "But why did it work?"

I knew exactly how to find out. "We'll go to the library," I said. I'd already composed a mental list of useful books.

At the word "library," Tel's face sagged. "Aww, Marina, do we have to?" he pleaded.

"Yes," I said firmly and would have added more if Astera had not stood abruptly. Cradling an unconscious Ashton in her arms, she spoke not a word to any of us as she strode through the door of the classroom and turned right. We exchanged glances. If she were heading deeper into the caves, she must be taking him to her sanctum near or maybe even at the Hearthstone itself!

No one but the Prima of House Criamon had ever seen the Hearthstone, that legendary power source we had guarded for centuries. Over four hundred years ago, a bitterly cold winter had followed right on the heels of the worst famine in decades, and much of Athens had fled to more hospitable cities. The old matron of the orphanage had perished, some said from a cold she caught while out searching for help, some said from starvation as she stretched the food stores to feed the children, and left the orphans to huddle miserably by the dying warmth of the fireplace. It was a young mage, Despina Delios bani Criamon, who came across the forgotten children, rekindled the hearth, and shepherded them through the rest of that terrible winter. Sparked by the trauma, many of them Awakened young, and Despina founded the Athenian branch of House Criamon at the orphanage, which was ever after known as the Forgotten Orphanage.

In memory of the warmth that had saved the children's lives, House Criamon kept the hearth burning strong like a sacred flame, and over the centuries, the hearthstone itself burned through the floor, carving out spacious caves and twisting tunnels in the hillside by the orphanage until at last it came to a rest somewhere deep underground. Its warmth continued to fill the cave system, which was named the Hearth in its honor, and it was Despina and some of her pupils who first suspected that the Hearthstone had transformed into a powerful Node. They and their successors gradually developed ways to access and harness its Primal energy, or Quintessence, beyond simply tapping into the warmth of the outer Hearth, but only the Prima and the Secunda, her second-in-command, ever knew those secrets. The magical power itself House Criamon was happy to share with all of Athens, and so the Forgotten Orphanage also morphed into a holy site, even if our eccentricity discouraged pilgrims and prevented us from ever playing a significant role in politics. Avaris visited often, but in an unofficial capacity as Ynez's mentor, and such was our reputation that no one even considered accusing Astera of taking advantage of this arrangement to influence the mayor. (Not that it would have worked — Avaris was well-nigh incorruptible.)

As long as House Criamon continued to supply Athens with Quintessence, mages and Sleepers alike left us to our idiosyncratic ways. (Although all the Hermetic mages we met smirked or laughed outright when they learned our Spheres: House Criamon was _supposed_ to specialize in Artes Temporis and Manes, but Astera never forced us to study anything against our will, and so we'd branched out in highly unconventional directions.) Well, the mages _mostly_ left us alone. Magister Mundi Thoren, the Bonisagi Primus, whose House specialized in Ars Vis and who researched engineering uses of Quintessence and its stored form, Tass, kept asking and threatening and begging Astera to let him to see the Hearthstone itself, but to no avail. Astera allowed him to channel energy from it, and that was it.

But now that Astera was clearly carrying Ashton into the inner Hearth, here was our chance to follow her and see the Hearthstone ourselves! And help her heal Ashton, of course. Surely she couldn't object to that.

Oh, but my books! I needed to fix them before the ink dried completely and permanently destroyed them.

After whipping my head back and forth between the books and the door, I made the agonizing decision to stay. Tel, having no such compunction, sauntered boldly after Astera. Ynez, good girl that she was, turned away in a furtive manner. She probably thought she was being sneaky, but her body couldn't entirely shield the glow of her candle, and I guessed that she was summoning her curiosity spirit to follow Astera.

After examining the pages, I concluded that the best strategy was to expel the ink by force. Again I whittled at my little dog, calling upon Ars Essentiae to drive the ink from the parchment — and the book immediately burst into a roaring inferno. Panicking, I threw myself on top of it in a desperate attempt to smother the fire, which may or may not have helped the book but certainly didn't do me any good. The scent of scorched cloth began to fill the air.

Meanwhile, Ynez had noticed Sy and the others hanging around the doorway, watching me and giggling. She stormed up to them, drew herself up to full (short) height, and demanded furiously, "What did you do?"

Holding his belly and gasping for breath, Sy gleefully explained that Jamie had copied the books using ink Helen had created that would catch fire if I used magic on it. Striving for an air of innocence, he protested, "We wouldn't damage the _actual_ books." To prove his point, Jamie pulled out one of the originals.

"That's not funny!" Ynez raged, doing an excellent impression of Astera. "Return it and apologize immediately."

"You're no fun, Ynez." But Jamie did let her march him over to me. "Here, Marina," he said, reluctantly and somewhat guiltily extending the book to me. "We would never destroy a book."

Perhaps he expected a good lecture on what Ancient Philosopher So-and-So said about the evils of theft, but I surprised both of us by bursting into tears instead. Faced with this appalling display of girly emotion, Jamie hastily shoved the book into my hands and ran away as if I had the Plague. Seeing that I was torn between clutching the book to my chest and holding it away from my clothing so it wouldn't get sooty, Ynez took it gently and then awkwardly but endearingly put an arm around me. At moments like this, I didn't mind that she was both four years younger and one rank higher.

"Ghallim," she called out, petting my shoulder in a comforting way, "can you come look at Marina?"

Ghallim, who must have had his hands full dealing with the children all by himself and was probably grateful for an excuse to escape a rambunctious game of Tag, entered the classroom at record speed. He looked me over and patched me up quickly with one of his foul herbal ointments. "Ze burns are not serious," he explained, "but ze smoke, eet did not 'elp your lungs."

Helen, who'd followed him back inside, scuffed her foot a little and muttered to the floor that she hadn't known what Sy and Jamie planned to do with the ink. "I'm sorry, Marina," she said, looking at my bandages, burned clothing, and ink-stained hands, and seeming to be on the verge of tears herself.

I didn't have the heart to scold. "It's all right," I reassured her and sent her back outside to play with her friends.

It was a sentiment that Ghallim obviously didn't share. Praying to Athena (a combined Ars Vis and Ars Temporis Effect, I guessed), he tried to reconstruct what had happened. As he muttered to himself, he looked more and more confused. Sy had used a little deflective trickery in his prank — but it wasn't Awakened magic. So what was it? And then there had been a magical Effect with a "fitting tragedy" feel to it — no one in the room had _wanted_ the green smoke and explosion, but they had somehow been appropriate. What was that all about? Finally, Astera herself had an ongoing Effect to keep everyone away from the Hearth, but that at least was normal. I could practically hear Ghallim thinking, _What's wrong with this orphanage? What's wrong with these children?_

"Ghallim!" Having entirely forgotten her guilt over the ink, Helen sped back inside to wrap her arms around him and then tug at his hand. "Come play with us! We're starting a game of Red Rover!"

"Not right now, child," he said, trying gently to disentangle himself.

"You're no fun!" she accused.

"Zat eez accurate."

She gave him another hug and ran off. Ah, children!

Ynez cautiously picked up a piece of crumpled parchment and smoothed it out for us to read. What we saw was a horribly failed attempt at a basic Enochian exercise. Poor Ashton! He really hadn't understood the problem at all! I made a mental note to tutor him later. Ynez, Ghallim, and I checked the rest of the parchment balls, but apart from bearing horrible abominations of Enochian runes, we saw nothing that could have triggered an explosion.

Just then, Tel strode back in, shirtless and sweaty and as chiseled as a Greek hero of old. Upon seeing him (or more precisely, his abs), Ynez turned red, dropped the parchment she was holding, and very pointedly avoided looking in his direction.

Having spent my entire life in Athens, I was less easily flustered by the sight of half-naked men. I scolded, "Tel, that is so inappropriate. Put your shirt back on!"

Holding it easily in one hand, he argued amiably, "Didn't we go to the Olympic Games together? What about all those naked athletes? Were _they_ being inappropriate?"

"That was entirely different," I sniffed and supported my stance with arguments about the importance of modesty from Plato, Socrates, and every other ancient philosopher I could remember. (Actually, I made up most of the quotations, but Tel would never know. Maybe I shouldn't encourage him to visit the library after all.)

More to stop the lecture than anything, he put his shirt back on. Ynez sneaked a peek in his direction and looked relieved. Her Spanish Catholic habits were really quite amusing sometimes.

Given the sort of day we were having, of course any illusion of normalcy was short lived. The next thing we knew, a loud roar accompanied by Ars Essentiae-enhanced stomping rattled the caves.

"It's Verrus!" Tel exclaimed happily and flew out into the yard. His mentor, an Adeptus Maior from House Bjornaer (where Tel probably belonged because it specialized in Ars Animae), made no attempt to be subtle when he took lion form and was known to petrify newcomers to Athens. Perhaps it was a good thing Thoren had set up the Obscura, however much Avaris might scream about humanitarianism, because at least now there were fewer stampedes when a humongous lion popped up in the Agora.

Despite their standard Greek mentor-mentee romantic relationship, that roar hadn't sounded at all friendly. Ghallim hastened after Tel in a dignified, priestly sort of way. "Stay here," I ordered Ynez, who protested indignantly, "But Marina, I'm a woman grown!"

Not wanting to miss whatever was happening outside, I snapped, "Stay behind me then!" and pattered out after Ghallim. For once, Ynez meekly obeyed and trotted at my heels.

Out in the empty yard — the children long since having dispersed to play elsewhere or (one could only hope) do homework — we saw a pride of lions and Tel with his arms around the alpha lion's neck. As far as I could tell from its expression, it didn't think having its mane squashed was very dignified but found Tel too charming to shake off.

"He's hunting," Tel explained to us. "He found some Plague-ridden bears so we're going to take care of them." Then he attempted to shape-shift into a lion to join the hunt.

At least, that's the shape I assumed he wanted to take, and not a two-headed squirrel that immediately began to vomit copious amounts of green gunk all over the grass. Behind me, Ynez gagged a little while the Verrus-lion stared down at his protege in comical dismay.

When the squirrel had finished ejecting the contents of its stomach, it flopped over on its back, begging to be petted. _Smart, Tel, exposing your belly to a predator. What if Verrus loses control of his lion instincts?_ I was about to point that out when the lion suddenly snatched him up in its jaws and bounded off.

"What!" shouted Ghallim in surprise.

As the rest of the pride loped after Verrus, Ghallim uttered a fervent prayer to Athena beseeching her to speed his sandals and then flew after them, running as fast as a gazelle. At the same time, I frantically whittled the dog into a lion and cast an Ars Essentiae Effect to stop Verrus. It wasn't at all elegant, but he jerked to a sudden halt as if the air around him had turned solid. Spitting out Tel (who landed in Ghallim's hair and immediately began to pet and comb it), Verrus let out a roar of frustration that rattled the windows of the orphanage.

Ynez, more diplomatically, had used her mirrors to open a polite mind link with Verrus and Tel. Her eyes opened wide as she processed their conversation. "Oh my," she said. "Adeptus Maior Verrus wants to fight us!"

"Fight us! Why?" I exclaimed.

"Oh no, he wants _Tel_ to fight us," she corrected herself. "He's supposed to assert his dominance over us."

Now that, given Tel's utter incompetence at magic — which we would be researching right now if Verrus hadn't so inconsiderately interrupted us — was the silliest thing I'd heard all day. It had _not_ been a good morning. First Timo had woken me early, then Astera had publicly humiliated me when I wasn't even late to lecture, then Sy and Jamie had pulled their cruelest prank yet, then Ashton had blown up the classroom with a freak magical backlash, and now we were supposed to fight Tel? And what would happen when — not if — we won? Would the Verrus-lion savage us in retaliation?

"Tell Verrus that's a terrible idea," I snapped.

"Well," suggested Ghallim, who was closest to said lion's jaws, "perhaps you could phrase eet a leettle more diplomatically?"

"Adeptus," said Ynez a little tentatively, "perhaps now is not the best time?" She looked meaningfully at the mutant squirrel cavorting on the priest's head.

Evidently Verrus agreed with her reasoning, because he transformed Tel into the most adorable lion cub ever, which tumbled off Ghallim's head, padded up to Verrus, and licked him affectionately. If Tel didn't tone down the cuteness factor, _I_ was going to turn into a two-headed squirrel and start vomiting copiously. Verrus ran off again, the rest of his pride flowing after him and Tel stumbling along behind. Belatedly, I yelled after him, "Come back! We need to research your magic!"

He did indeed return, but only to rub his head against my legs and turn over for some more belly rubbing. Did I mention that I had a hard time saying no to cute animals? I found myself petting his tummy and grudgingly promising that _I'd_ do the research while he tracked down the big scary bears.

As soon as the lions vanished into the distance, I blinked and couldn't for the life of me remember why I'd said that.

Although Ynez wanted to follow them, just then Astera emerged from the caves carrying Ashton, who appeared to be sound asleep. Even without Ars Vis, I got the sense that something had been dramatically spiritually misaligned and she'd had to work a massive ritual to partially realign it. She certainly looked old and haggard, and she stumbled a little over the uneven ground.

"Ashton is fine," she assured us. "I'm going to take him back to his room." Then she added cryptically, "Being isolated can be dangerous." Before we could ask what she meant, she continued in a tired tone, "Marina, you're in charge while I rest."

Well, of _course_ I was in charge of the orphanage. I'd been helping her with administrative tasks for _years_ — Mother Doria, our cook, reported grocery expenses to me because I kept the accounts, and Calla, our kitchen maid who also did the cleaning and laundry, double-checked household tasks with me. I was also the one responsible for making the children do their assigned chores — and believe me, that was a full-time job in itself! But for all that I had proved my reliability and maturity repeatedly, Astera still refused to share her magical duties and projects with me. What little she did reveal, she told Ynez in private, and Ynez refused to say anything because our mother had told her to keep it a secret. It was very annoying.

"Wait, Astera! What's going on?" we called, but she walked off in the direction of the dormitory wing without acknowledging us. Typical.

Ynez turned to Ghallim with an anxious expression. "Ghallim, when you were here, was there anything odd about the children?"

He thought about it. "Well, cliques are not anything unusual," he replied hesitantly.

Although their discussion sounded interesting, I had an orphanage to run while Astera was out of commission. Leaving them to talk, I rounded up the children, set half to their assigned chores, put the rest to work practicing Enochian, and checked on the kitchen to make sure we'd have dinner on time. As if to apologize for his prank, Jamie tagged along throughout and did his best to be helpful. When we finally reached the library, I thought of the most appropriate punishment for him. "Since you're so good at copying books that even I couldn't tell the difference, why don't you copy these before I return them to Hadrian's Library?" And I casually handed the three volumes of _De Historia Artium Magicarum_ back to him.

His expression was a satisfying mix of pride at being entrusted with such a momentous task, and dismay at the sheer amount of work involved. But he did obediently copy one and a half books in impeccable calligraphy before I relented and let him run off to play with the others. "Come back tomorrow to finish!" I called after his back.

"I will!" he promised without slowing. Whether he'd actually remember was another matter, but I could deal with that later. In the meantime, I needed to research mages who had difficulty working magic.

* * *

My — well, House Criamon's — library was housed in a separate, smaller building next to the dormitory. In the shadow of the combined warehouse and overflow dormitory building, the library had originally been storage space for Hearth records. We had centuries and centuries of logs, going all the way back to fragile papyrus scrolls assiduously protected from the ravages of time by Ars Temporis wards. These logs contained a wealth of data on the status of the Hearth, who had accessed it, and when and why. Astera, in particular, kept detailed notes on how much energy had been channeled to Thoren and Magistra Scholae Tessa of House Bjornaer, which always came in handy when they started to fight over who had received more power in a given month. Even the Hearth's energy wasn't infinite, and it needed to fuel not only the Obscura and the Aegis, which Thoren had built to block the Plague itself, but also whatever spell Tessa used to shield our crops from the Plague's magical blight. Some months we ran a little short, or at least didn't supply enough Quintessence to satisfy their voracious demands, and they showed up on our doorstep to complain. Having spent all but my first two years at the orphanage, I'd seen enough of them to recognize their moods. Tessa was definitely the more hotheaded of the two, and when she visited, I often heard screaming matches drifting out of the Hearth from the direction of Astera's office. However, she and her House had been in Athens for twenty years, so she'd watched me grow up and, whatever her mood, usually gave me a piece of fresh fruit and a smile when she saw me. (If Tel were a latter-day Ganymede, then Tessa was Helen of Troy. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.) On the other hand, Thoren, despite his more even temper, seemed much more intimidating, perhaps because he was an archmage of Ars Vis.

I still remembered the awed whispers and rumors that had run through all the marketplaces in Athens when he led a dozen Bonisagi through the city gates five years ago. They came from Norway, that exotic land of snow and ice, and stood over a head taller than the average Athenian, _and_ were blond haired and blue eyed besides. Immediately upon their arrival, House Bonisagus claimed the Acropolis, ousting several prominent political families and setting the tone for their subsequent actions. Despite barely weathering several ostracization votes, the Bonisagi continued to flout public opinion and even democratic procedure when it ran counter to their purposes. The success of the Obscura and Aegis meant that Athenians grumbled but acquiesced, and that talented young mages flocked to House Bonisagus until it swelled to a good thirty members plus something on the order of fifty apprentices. (By contrast, House Bjornaer couldn't have had more than twenty mages and a similar number of apprentices, and House Criamon had, well, the four of us plus Lil and maybe sort of Ghallim.) By occupying the Acropolis, House Bonisagus had also taken _de facto_ possession of Hadrian's Library and its troves of books and scrolls, which it closed to anyone not House affiliated, so serious mage scholars, such as Irene, now their head librarian, were forced to join as well.

For all my pride in my little library, no one was ever going to turn Criamoni just for access to it. A couple centuries ago, someone (probably the Prima, but perhaps one of her subordinates) had transformed the storage shed into an actual library, arranging the logbooks on rows of shelves in the back half of the room and reserving entire bookcases near the front for manuscripts on magical history, the art and practice of magic, the history of Athens, and more general texts. Successive librarians had added gradually to the collection, sometimes by rescuing pieces of parchment that had flown off the top of the Tower of the Winds (House Bjornaer assumed they'd lose documents all the time and kept multiple copies around), but usually by borrowing volumes from other Houses and copying them. Even though Hadrian's Library was closed to us now, I had a standing arrangement with the Bonisagi Secunda, Adepta Maior Leona. We'd become acquainted when Thoren began sending her to the orphanage for meetings with Astera, and she'd agreed to check out books for me in exchange for, shall we say, _unofficial_ use of Hearth energy. (No, this did not go into the logs.) I was always very careful with the books and returned them promptly, so eventually she secured permission from Irene to bring me into the library itself. I still wasn't allowed to touch any of the shelves — Irene screamed at me the first time I tried to reach for a book — but Leona was more than happy to borrow anything I wanted, and Jamie and I stayed busy copying manuscripts. My personal goal was to expand our library into a latter-day Library of Alexandria although, admittedly, we were still a long way from that.

Collecting a stack of dusty tomes (time to renew those wards), I brought them back to my desk by the door. As I read, I lost all track of time, and barely noticed when Timo padded in and pawed at my leg, begging to be picked up. Absentmindedly, I dragged him into my lap and was completely engrossed in Thomas Perseius' account of his unorthodox training by a hedge witch when Ynez wandered in, picked up an Advanced Enochian textbook, and curled up in one of the extra padded chairs I kept around. To our surprise, Ashton showed up next, looking exhausted and very much as if he should be lying in bed still.

"I don't feel so well," he said weakly.

"Would you like some water?" Ynez immediately asked. She rushed to the kitchen while I laid a hand on his forehead to check for a fever. He felt normal.

When Ynez returned with a glass, he gulped it down gratefully and said in a distant sort of way, "I just haven't been feeling well for a while now. I feel like I just don't belong with the others anymore."

"What do you mean? How exactly do you feel? How long has it been?" To our anxious queries, he replied only vaguely, "Oh, it's been a while" and "I feel as if I'm not all here."

Helpfully, I quoted Chronodorus' _Treatise on Friendship_ : "'To be a good friend, you must be present in heart and mind and soul,'" and even lifted the illuminated volume down from a high shelf and handed it to him. Normally I didn't let any of the children touch the more rare books, but he seemed to need special comforting.

Ashton flipped the pages carefully, pausing to admire the colorful illustrations. "Will you be my friends?" he asked, glancing up from the book.

"Of course," we assured him. Ynez pulled out her mirrors and covertly observed him in one of them to read his mind — every image showed an older, lonely Ashton.

How to cheer him? I cast about for ideas and gave him a wooden dog from my desk. (Normally I didn't like the children touching my carvings, so of course they stole or rearranged them all the time, egged on by Sy.) Ashton accepted the dog eagerly, then looked disappointed as if he had expected something to happen at his touch.

Still in that distant tone, he said, "I don't know why I thought you could help. I should go lie down," and stood to leave.

"Would you like one of us to sit with you?" I asked.

He hesitated. "Well, yes, that would be nice."

Ynez and I exchanged looks. "I'll go," she offered. She'd always been better at comforting young children — I was more the disciplinarian type.

After the two of them returned to the dormitory, I tried to continue reading Perseius, but I was too anxious to focus. I was wandering around the library restlessly and straightening books when another loud roar shook the entire building. _That_ one didn't sound like a lion. It sounded like...a _dragon_? The smell of smoke and the crackling of fire rent the air. Piercing shrieks and urgent barking filled the yard outside.

"Fire! Fire!"

"What happened?"

"I don't know! The library's on fire!"

As I looked around my bookshelves in a panic, I felt a snap in the air and the searing heat of uncontrolled energy. Timo at my heels, I dashed outside just in time to watch one of the caves collapse from the torrent of magical power gushing out. Within seconds, its fury had vaporized a section of one of the leylines leading out of the cave, but the Quintessence simply leaped through the air in great arcs of green lightning and roared down the rest of the leyline leading towards the south of Athens.

One by one, all the other leylines fell dark.


	2. Still Monday March 1, 1490

**Still Monday March 1, 1490**

Whimpers jerked my attention to the clump of terrified children cowering by the door to the dormitory. Boldly defending them were Gus and Lily, who bayed furiously at a massive lion crouched in the center of the yard. Beside it, an alabaster dragon recoiled from something behind me, and I spun around to see flames dancing across the roof of my library.

"What did I do?" came a familiar wail. "Verrus, why did you make me roar? Marina, your books are on fire!"

The dragon rapidly collapsed back towards Tel form. With a human head, one deformed wing, three fully dragon legs and the last one oozing and bubbling back into a human leg, the ungainly monstrosity crumpled to the ground and began sobbing. A few of the children started to retch as they stared, transfixed, at the sight. Verrus placed a half comforting, half reproving paw on Tel's shoulder. Where was _my_ comforting paw? It was _my_ library on fire!

Regardless, I didn't have time to deal with Tel's self-pity. As I faced the inferno now devouring the walls of my library, Ynez ran up, awkwardly holding her skirts so she wouldn't trip over them. "I can help," she offered, and began to chant in Enochian. However, since I was significantly stronger at Ars Essentiae, I still had to lay down the main Effect. I whipped out my knife and a fresh piece of wood and rapidly carved a Tel-dragon (or how the Tel-dragon had looked before it started mutating into a human anyway).

Brandishing a spear in one hand and a round bronze shield in the other, Ghallim dashed over from his temple, easily leaping a fence to reach us. When he took in the scene, he arranged the spear and shield on the ground and began praying over them. "Great Lady Athena, guide me to those in need of rescue." Receiving no response, he started counting children and looked relieved that they were all present.

At our backs, the leyline leading to the south blazed up even more dramatically, casting an eerie green light over the entire courtyard that clashed with the bright yellow flames. Apparently satisfied that Ynez and I had the library fire in hand, Verrus bounded over to examine _that_ catastrophe. Throwing back his head, he roared majestically at the Quintessence that arced and crackled along the leyline.

Ynez stopped chanting just long enough to scan the crowd of terrified orphans and dogs. She singled out Ashton and screamed wildly at him, "Get Astera!"

In my hands, the wooden dragon burst into life and tore itself upwards, expanding like a bubble and turning translucent as glass. Summoning all the winds to it in a tornado, it flew straight at the library and circled the inferno faster and faster, dragging the winds after it, throwing up clouds of dirt and leaves, and whipping our clothing and hair around us. Timo let out a long howl, Helen gave a little shriek and clung to Sy, and I hung on grimly to my Effect, even as the dust stung my eyes and tears blinded me.

Then, all of a sudden, flames, wind, and dragon vanished at the same instant. The air went still. Leaves and small sticks and dirt drifted down gently all over us — followed by scrolls and books flapping down like birds. Cursed Paradox! What did it think this was — the Tower of the Winds? Only House Bjornaer let its library fly everywhere! Irritably, I snatched a scroll out of the air as it fluttered past and surveyed the damage. The roof of the library was gone, the tops of the walls were burnt black and crumbling, and all my books and scrolls lay scattered about the yard, their edges slightly charred — but blessedly, everything had survived the fire.

A little shamefaced, Lil came up bearing an armful of manuscripts. "I wasn't fast enough to help," she said apologetically. "I _should_ have been. I knew what to do. I just wasn't fast enough."

"It's all right," I reassured her. "It just takes practice. We can run some drills."

"I should have practiced more." She was still obviously upset. " _Ynez_ does, all the time."

Now that we'd resolved the crisis on our own, Astera arrived at a run, demanding breathlessly, "Is everyone all right?" As soon as we'd convinced her that everyone was alive and in one piece, even Tel (who was lying in mutated dragon-human form in the middle of the courtyard, still crying his heart out), she strode over to Ghallim. He'd followed Verrus to the leyline and now stood gazing into the distance, staring thoughtfully after the lion that was bounding toward the Tower of the Winds. "Ghallim, report."

He turned back to her. "Well, eet appears zat ze leyline leading to ze Aegis in ze southern part of ze city eez drawing too much energy." _That_ was the understatement of the day, given that said leyline was blazing like green fire and shooting out Quintessence to scorch the grass around it. Even as we watched, a bolt speared straight at him — Helen screamed — but Ghallim leaped nimbly out of the way. Ragged cheers rose from the children, and Sy announced, "I want to be a warrior-priest too when I grow up!"

"Silly," corrected Lil, still irritable after her self-perceived failure. "Ghallim isn't a warrior-priest. He's a priest of Athena who's _also_ a mercenary."

"Whatever, Lil."

Both Ghallim and Astera ignored their bickering. "Well," snapped Astera, "I'm not waiting for Thoren to come here hurling accusations and wasting my time. This is damaging the Hearth. I'm going to deal with it _now_."

Scattering a bottle of white sand over a large patch of grass, she used her staff to sketch a diagram of the hillside, leylines, and orphanage. Beside it she wrote the rune for "time" several times in increasingly large font size to simulate the future. When she removed the tip of the staff and stood back, the sand shifted and built up ominously over the leyline tracing. Suddenly, it exploded in a violent shower, obliterating the outlines of the yard and orphanage.

All the children had edged closer to stare at the Ars Temporis Effect in awe. "What does it mean?" whispered Jamie. He was kneeling on the ground with his arms around Gus' neck, looking as if he wanted to bury his face in the golden fur. Gus bristled and growled menacingly at the sand, as if challenging it to attack him.

"The larger the rune, the further in the future she's looking," Lil whispered back.

"How long is _that_?" Gordon asked Ynez, pointing at the last and largest rune.

She studied it for a moment. "A few hours from now, I think."

All the children took a quick step away from the simulation. In a few hours, the energy flooding out of the Hearth was going to arc all the way over the orphanage, vaporizing everything in its path.

"What can we do to 'elp?" Ghallim asked Astera practically.

She snapped out of her trance. "Find out what's causing the power draw and _stop_ it," she ordered the three of us. "But stay away from the leylines. That amount of energy will be fatal." Helen let out a little gasp. "Stay safe, children." Locking gazes with each of us in turn, she gave us a little nod and then headed determinedly into the caves. Faithfully, Lily followed her in, feathery tail held high. Gus, who was terrified of lightning, stayed with the children.

I sought out Gordon in the crowd. "Keep them inside and safe, all right? Make sure everyone stays _inside_."

For once, he looked entirely serious. "I will," he promised. "C'mon, mice." Swiftly, he and Gus shepherded the children into the dormitory, many of them casting fearful glances over their shoulders at the green leyline and the sand simulation. Helen broke away to give each of us a fierce hug before pelting after the others.

A soft "woof" from Timo reminded us of Tel's presence. Fully human at last, he sat up and patted at his face and limbs with trepidation, as if fearing that he'd find dragon scales. When he caught sight of the charred library, his face crumpled — but before he could start crying again, the crackling from the leyline caught his attention. "What _happened_?" he breathed.

Ynez gave him the short summary. "Something is pulling massive amounts of energy from the Hearth. Astera wants us to go stop it."

Ghallim did some quick calculations. "Assuming the power draw is coming from the Aegis stone at the end of the line, it will be a four-hour walk to the city wall. We don't have that much time." He looked at Ynez and me expectantly. "Can you do anything?"  
"I can use Ars Essentiae to speed us — " I started to say.

A loud neigh solved all our problems. Tel had been replaced by a gorgeous golden stallion with a white star on its forehead. Looking more confused than any horse should be able to look, it pawed the ground and neighed again, plaintively tossing its mane. I stepped up to it cautiously to stroke its neck — and promptly got zapped by a bolt of stray lightning from the leyline. Tel leaped out of the way — could horses even jump _sideways_? — and emphatically pointed his nose to the south.

He was right. We needed to hurry.

"'E should be big enough to carry all of us," Ghallim said appraisingly.

"I can't ride _Tel_!" Ynez shrieked, blushing scarlet at the very suggestion.

Neither Ghallim nor I was in the mood to indulge her misguided sense of Catholic propriety. "Get on," I ordered. "We're running out of time."

Bright red with embarrassment, Ynez struggled onto Tel's back and resolutely sat sidesaddle — minus the saddle. She firmly tucked her skirts around her legs so not even the slightest bit of ankle could peek out, then raised her chin and stared determinedly away from us.

If she wanted to fall off as soon as Tel started to move, that was not my problem. Or rather, it _would_ be my problem when it happened, but it hadn't happened yet so I'd deal with it later. I climbed on behind her, flashing quite a lot of petticoat and making her blush even more furiously. Shaking his head a little, Ghallim mounted gracefully after us and Tel broke into a trot.

"Remember the Amazons?" I pointed out. "Do you think they rode sidesaddle?"

Between bounces, she retorted, "Did they even ride horses?"

Good point. I only remembered the part about the archery and the cutting off of breasts. I decided not to mention _that_ lest Ynez faint dead away. It would slow us down.

"I think your dog eez following," Ghallim observed.

Timo! I craned my neck past Ghallim's shield and fluttering cloak to see the puppy trotting determinedly along behind us. "Timo! Stay!"

Before I could tell if he'd obeyed, loud screaming erupted to the south. Tel burst into a gallop, Ynez squealed as she started to slide off (just as I'd predicted), I grabbed her around the waist and nearly toppled off myself, and finally Ghallim seized my arm and wrenched both of us back upright, cursing in French and muttering under his breath to Athena, "Great Lady, grant me patience!"

Tel sailed through the city, keeping a city block's distance from the fiery leyline. Quintessence kept arcing away from it to strike cobblestones and plants, and everything nearby was already scorched black. Astera would throw a fit if Avaris and the Assembly asked us to pay for repairs! As we galloped past a group of Athenians fleeing to the north, an old lady screamed after us, "Go back, children! Run away! The Aegis is down!"

Indignantly, Ynez turned and yelled back at her, "I'm an Adepta Maior!"

Said Adepta Maior then promptly fell off the horse when Tel shifted into an even faster gallop.

Maybe it was a good thing, because when Tel had skidded to a halt and Ghallim and I had dashed back to pick her up and check her bruises, Timo came panting up to us, wheezing as noisily as if his lungs were about to burst and looking incredibly smug that he'd finally caught up to his big brother. In the interest of sparing Timo a heart attack and Ynez another tumble, we finished our wild ride to the Aegis at a much more sedate pace.

* * *

The leyline we were following led us into a semicircular courtyard abutting the city wall and terminated in a stone mounted on a beautifully carved marble pedestal. Quintessence flowed out of the Aegis stone into a row of three equilateral triangles, their sides formed by glowing lines of energy, whose tips pointed straight at the wall like a defensive formation. Normally the entire Aegis glowed the benevolent orange of a hearth fire or sunset, but now it was malevolent shade of dragon's breath, tinged with black. Plague vines normally held far away from the city boundaries had crept up the outside of the wall and snaked over the top to brush the triangles. Where they touched, black putrefaction crept along the sides of the triangles.

Someone was already in the courtyard, with his hand planted firmly on the Aegis stone. Ghallim and I instantly recognized him — Tiberius, an arrogant Assemblyman who fancied himself as more important than he really was. It was just like him to ignore all the signs around the courtyard that warned against touching the stone.

But wait — his hand was turning black, black like the corruption of the Plague vines.

The movement of a cloak caught my eye. A child swathed in heavy fabric (in _March_?) moved in the shadows, but before I could point her out to the others, a buck and jerk beneath us warned that Tel was changing back into human form. Led by Ynez, we hastily jumped or slid off and shielded him from Tiberius for privacy.

Ghallim murmured to us, "Ze Assemblyman is acting as a sink for all ze energy. Eet eez changing forms, but I can't see where eet eez going."

"He's not doing an active Effect," I whispered back, probing the black tinge with my magical senses.

Ynez angled her mirror just so and studied his reflection to determine his sins. "False arrogance, pettiness," she listed. She shifted the mirror to catch the light from the Aegis. "That's strange. The energy is going into spirit form. It's like something is resonant with him?" She rotated the mirror a little more. "Oh! Something is latched on to him...looking over his shoulder. It's...filled with thorns."

"Plague thorns?" I asked. "Like those?" I pointed at the vines creeping over the wall.

Before she could answer, a thorny bramble lashed straight out of her mirror to grab her wrist. In shock, she dropped the mirror and jumped away from it. With a crash, the mirror shattered on the paving stones, leaving behind an inert tentacle of thorns among the shards of glass.

Tiberius jerked his head in our direction. "Who's there? Show yourself!" he commanded.

Although Tel was the only citizen among us, he was clearly in no position to represent us right now, so Ghallim walked forward confidently. "What eez 'appening 'ere, good sir? 'Ow may we be of assistance?"

"Get healers from House Bjornaer at once! That Plague child _touched_ me!" With the hand not contaminating the Aegis, Tiberius jabbed an accusing finger in the direction of the hooded figure. The little girl whimpered quietly and drifted toward the buildings bordering the courtyard.

"Well, you are in luck, sir," replied Ghallim in a soothing tone. "I am a 'ealer of some repute."

"I demand you do something about that child! What good are you mages if you can't even keep us safe?" Tiberius gripped the Aegis stone even harder, sending black lines radiating out from his fingers. The triangles pulsed briefly.

Although Ghallim looked as if he'd rather punch the arrogant man, he merely said in a measured tone, "I recommend zat you go home right away and not interact with anyone along ze way. Zat way you can avoid anyone like zis child." Knowing Tiberius and his temper, Ghallim's advice was probably meant more for the benefit of everyone else.

By now Tel was fully human again. Standing and ignoring Tiberius entirely, he walked slowly to the child, taking care not to alarm her. Squatting so they were at eye level, he said gently, "It's all right. No one's going to hurt you."

I followed him over and, keeping a cautious distance, examined her magically. It was painfully obvious that she'd had the Plague for a long, long time. Fighting to keep my voice calm, I asked, "Where are you from? What's your name?"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't respond. Indeed, she might not have been _able_ to respond — she'd been in the Plague for so long that it had consumed all of her humanity. The child's form she wore was nothing but an illusion over a swarm of locusts. I shuddered at the sight. If the Aegis collapsed, was this what we would all become? Was this what had happened to Ynez's entire family?

Behind me, I heard Ynez announce with all the arrogance of youth, "I understand what's happening here."

Oh dear.

"What are you doing, girl?" shouted Tiberius in a voice full of wrath. "I _told_ you to go fetch the healers! Are you deaf?"

In reply, Ynez lit a candle and shrieked an incantation in Latin to bind his arrogance. Out of the air surrounding Tiberius, a vine bristling with vicious spines speared out to wrap around her throat. "Plague spirit," she choked out, clawing at the vine. "Drawing energy from leyline for long time. Sympathetic connection. Malicious."

No kidding!

Forgetting that I couldn't do a thing about Ars Manes, I was about to run to her aid when a wave of emotion struck me. Tel and I both recoiled a step from the little girl, fighting the compulsion to leave her alone. What on earth was going on now?

Down the street hurried Ashton, whom I was certain we'd left at the orphanage in the care of Gordon — was _he_ in big trouble! — footsteps tapping out an urgent rhythm on the cobblestones. The impulse had originated from him.

"Ashton?" asked a stunned Tel. "What's going on?"

Ashton ran the last few steps to plant himself protectively beside the girl. "She's lonely," he said defiantly. "Leave us alone!"

"Aww, come on, Ash," Tel coaxed, switching on his charm. "Tell me what's going on so I can help."

Responding to the charm, Ashton replied more calmly, "You of all people should understand what it's like. They're alone and I need to help them. Go away so I can help them!" On the last words, energy surrounded him, and he extended his right hand towards the girl. His skin, I noticed with shock, was entirely covered in a rash. Even though it wasn't the Plague, it obviously wasn't healing properly either. Had that been there earlier? Could Astera, Ynez, and I all have missed it?

Before Ashton could touch the girl, Tel wrapped him in a tight hug and pinned his arms. "It isn't what you think it is, Ash. She's too far gone."

I hastily carved a wooden bear, trying to use Ars Essentiae to form a bind like a comforter around the little girl, but she looked unimpressed and Ashton, of all people, canceled my Effect, saying angrily, "She's lonely! We need to help her."

"We will," I started to promise, but at the same moment the girl touched his arm gently and said, "We haven't forgotten. We never will." On the last word, her skin evaporated and the swarm of locusts exploded outwards, targeting Ashton and Tel.

With a shout, Tel released Ashton and jumped backwards, smacking frantically at the insects. Each locust that he managed to slap away morphed into a beetle that buzzed menacingly and renewed its attack. Ashton merely stood in the middle of the swarm with an unconcerned air, watching the locusts chew viciously at his skin. Using Ars Essentiae, I desperately plucked insects off the two of them, but not before a few burrowed into Ashton.

"Ash," Tel asked urgently, "what's _wrong_?"

"I'm broken," he sighed. "It used to be better, but you don't remember."

"What do you mean? You mean when you first came to the orphanage?"

"Oh, no. A time _long_ before that. I've known you for much longer than you remember."

Before I could inquire further, I heard loud shouting behind me and whirled around. Ghallim stepped back from healing Ynez and with a strangled screech, she plunged her burning candle straight into the thorny mess around her neck.

Ghallim began to pray to Athena again, begging her to divert energy to the other leylines. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the flood of energy began to decrease. "It's no good!" he called to us urgently. "I'm too far from the fork!"

Shouting imperiously in Latin, Ynez raked the candle across the thorns and set them alight in both the spirit realm and the real world. In a burst of white flames, they fell off her neck and dissipated into smoke. But the Plague spirit that had possessed Tiberius was undeterred. Before Ynez or Ghallim could react, Tiberius ripped the Aegis stone clean from its setting — the leyline tearing itself from its channel to follow — and launched himself at Ynez.

"I gave you an order, girl!" he roared and punched her straight in the face with the stone.

With a scream of agony, Ynez crumpled to the ground and curled into a ball, clutching at her nose.

Without a moment of hesitation, Ghallim lunged forward and in one smooth motion impaled the Plague spirit — and Tiberius — on his Ars Vis-enchanted spear.

As the spirit died, Tiberius collapsed to the paving stones beside the decorative fountain. The Assemblyman blinked up at Ghallim in confusion and fumbled weakly at the spear shaft protruding from his chest. "What — what is this madness?" he gurgled through a mouthful of blood. The Aegis stone crumbled off his hand, thoroughly corrupted by black taint, and clattered across the paving stones. Groaning, a bedraggled Ynez dragged herself to her feet and prodded it back towards the pedestal with a stick. However, she was so exhausted and in so much pain that she tripped over her own feet, fell, and struck her head on the stone. Eyes unfocused, she lay still. Timo crept up to her, whining piteously and licking her hands.

Praying fervently to Athena, Ghallim stabilized Tiberius and examined Ynez wearily. "She's all right, Timo," he said tiredly, petting the puppy. Then he lifted his head suddenly. "Astera is coming."

And lo, our mother soared into the courtyard, pulled through the air by her staff, the end of which was carved with the rune for "gravity." In one swift glance she took in the scene and focused on the most urgent case. "I must get Ashton back immediately," she said. "Come, Ashton." Seizing his arm, she pointed her staff back in the direction of the orphanage.

"Wait!" I protested. "Astera, what's going on?"

Pouting as adorably as he could, Tel wheedled, "Can't you tell us what's going on?"

"Fine!"

Instead of staying long enough to explain to _all_ of us, she whisked Tel off too, heartlessly abandoning the rest of us in the courtyard — Ghallim spattered in blood, Ynez barely conscious, me disheveled and standing in the middle of a pile of wood shavings, and worst of all, an influential politician dying with Ghallim's spear in his chest. This was _not_ going to look good to the city watch when they arrived.

Ghallim made a snap decision. "I'll get him to 'Ouse Bjornaer."

I nodded tiredly. "I'll take Ynez home."

While Ghallim slowed time around Tiberius to keep him alive longer and heaved him into a nearby cart (adding theft to our list of crimes), I summoned a disk of wind large enough to hold Ynez, Timo, and me and carefully eased it under Ynez. After ascertaining that we'd be fine on our own, Ghallim flipped up his hood (another one of his Wonders, which would slow light around him so he'd be gone by the time anyone saw him and tried to ask questions), and set off for the Tower of the Winds.

* * *

Back at the orphanage, we descended from the wind disk to find all the children — except for Ashton — in the yard, looking frightened and worried. As soon as they saw us, they swarmed around us, rather like the locusts. Helen even threw her arms around me and tried to burrow into my skirts. "Mariiiina, what happened?"

"Astera took Ashton into the caves again! Will he be all right?" (That was Sy and Jamie, more scared than I'd ever seen them.)

"We didn't even see him leave." (Gordon, guiltily staring at the ground.)

"Ynez, what _happened_ to you?" (Lil, utterly appalled.)

Indeed, they had probably never seen her in such a state. Her hair had come undone, her dress was torn and dirty, her arms were cut and scratched, her face showed a partially healed gash and great purpling bruise, and her neck was circled by an ugly red line and deep scratches. Rubbing her throat ruefully, Ynez gasped in a hoarse voice, "I was strangled by an Assemblyman's pride."

Which, of course, only raised more questions. I told them about Tiberius and the Plague spirit but omitted the part about the Plague child and Ashton, not wanting to scare them _too_ much. I did make a mental note to investigate further once I had time — perhaps they'd seen Ashton with the girl, or at least heard him mention her. While I regaled them with the tale of Ynez's valiant fight, Lil approached her, looking awed. As she peppered Ynez with questions about the spirit and its proper classification, she healed the worst of the cuts and gashes.

Looking much more alert, Ynez said to me, "We should check on Ashton."

I agreed. "Gordon, keep them safe." He gave a determined nod. Somehow, I didn't think Sy was going to get to play any pranks for a while.

My trusty wind disk whisked Ynez and me deep into the caves, down towards the Hearthstone. The further we went, the hotter it became. Sweat began to soak through my petticoats, and Ynez uncomfortably pushed back a strand of damp hair. I didn't know about her, but _I_ wished I were a boy so I could strip to the waist! Further down, the tunnel bent away, and on the walls we could see the dancing reflections of flames. Who should step around the corner but Tel?

"What happened? How's Ashton? Where's Astera?" Our questions tumbled over and interrupted one another.

"Oh, they're all right," he replied evasively.

I felt like shaking him. "Look," I began to say, "We were _there_. We _saw_ what happened with the locusts -"

"Shhhh!" Ynez said suddenly, holding up a hand for silence.

Over the crackling of the flames, we heard adult voices drifting in from the yard, growing steadily louder. Despite its unwonted irritability, I'd recognize Thoren's tones anywhere, having grown very familiar with them over the years.

* * *

Tel and I had first met Thoren bani Bonisagus when he visited the orphanage shortly after his occupation of the Acropolis. He'd shown up unannounced, though Astera had already predicted his coming and enthroned herself in her office so that he'd have to approach her like a supplicant — no point in ceding the home ground advantage, after all. Tel and I, by then the oldest of the orphans as well as the only other members of House Criamon, had hung around the yard, trying very hard to act blase in front of the younger children but secretly curious about this new Primus who had caused such an uproar. When the Magister Mundi finally came walking — how disappointing when he could have flown! — up the path into the yard, he'd smiled around at all the small heads poking out from windows and around corners (they quickly vanished with childish giggles) and addressed us courteously. "I am Magister Mundi Thoren bani Bonisagus," he said formally. He looked as if he were in his thirties, like Astera and Tessa, and he was as tall and as blond as the rumors had claimed.

Proud to be among the youngest of my rank in Athens, I replied with equal solemnity, "I am Initiate Exempta Marina Cimon bani Criamon," and cast a sidelong glance at Tel, waiting for him to introduce himself according to the proper formula.

But he was too busy gawking up at Thoren. "You're very tall, aren't you?" he said wonderingly.

I elbowed him and hissed, "Tel!"

The Magister Mundi hid a smile while my ridiculous brother said hastily, "Oh, hi, I'm Tel," and gave a little wave.

After another glare and elbow, I firmly introduced him, "This is Initiate Exemptus Telemachus bani Criamon." Our avatar had cooperated just long enough for him to pass the exam along with me.

As if he weren't addressing two awkward thirteen-year-olds, the now-highest-ranked member of the Order of Hermes in Athens asked politely, "Would you be so kind as to inform the Prima that I wish a moment of her time?"

Forgetting all formality, I said, "Oh, yes, of course! She's waiting in her office already." Oops, maybe I shouldn't have told him that. Too late.

Tel and I scrambled into the outer Hearth, running down the tunnels and calling for Astera, only to remember that she wanted _him_ to go to _her_. We returned sheepishly to the yard and told our guest, "Umm, maybe you should follow us, Magister."

Once inside the Hearth, I was so flustered at having to perform any kind of magic in front of an _archmage_ that I very nearly botched the shield that I was trying to raise around the three of us. As it was, it took me three tries — admittedly, it was a recently acquired skill — and I turned bright red and nearly cried from humiliation. Tel's ribbing didn't help _at all_ , but our guest waited patiently and said not a word about helping me or doing it himself. Once we were finally moving through the flames towards Astera's office again, he even examined my crude carving of Athena's Aegis and asked curiously about our Foci. The Bonisagi all used wands and Enochian runes, he explained, and he was fascinated by other magical paradigms. I was too embarrassed to eke out more than a few half sentences, but Tel cheerfully made up for my reticence with a long-winded explanation of how he couldn't do magic deliberately at all but often changed into animals randomly. It probably didn't improve the impression our House was making, and I was only too happy to flee after we'd seen Thoren to the closed door of Astera's office. We left him to knock on it and ran back to the yard to regale the other children with our adventure.

* * *

Subsequent visits had been more contentious, as Thoren wasn't one for social calls and came in person only when the construction of the first the Obscura and then the Aegis hit serious snags. More often he sent Leona, whom he'd appointed his Secunda after she transferred from House Bjornaer, to negotiate with Astera. When he did show up himself, he wore a preoccupied air and nodded absently to any orphans in his path, then headed straight to Astera's office (he certainly didn't need _me_ to shield him from the flames). While we never heard raised voices, Astera would fume for days afterwards about how _certain people_ kept harassing her about seeing the Hearthstone. I was too awed by his achievements and too embarrassed about our first meeting to do anything more than mumble a greeting if I bumped into him, and the next year Ynez joined us and my new sister's open animosity provided an excellent excuse for avoiding him.

But now he was in the outer Hearth itself, and if I refused to see him, I'd have to wait here in the sweltering heat until he and his mages left. Which, given the state of the leyline, might not be until dawn. I didn't want to sleep on a cave floor.

"This is a disgrace!" Thoren was complaining. "Just as you'd expect from House Criamon. The most precious asset in the city, and Astera just leaves it unattended. I suppose she doesn't care what will happen if the Aegis goes down?"

Lower voices responded, in soothing tones.

Unappeased, Thoren raised his voice and shouted into the caves, "Astera! Where are you? Come out here at once!"

The three of us exchanged exasperated looks. Did we really have to deal with another annoying authority figure? Wasn't one enough for the night?

Ynez lifted her chin proudly. "We must defend the dignity of our House," she proclaimed loftily.

"No," objected Tel. "We really don't. Let him say what he wants. It really doesn't matter."

"Just look at this mess!" we heard. "The leyline is shattered, the Node completely unguarded. Criamon is the most incompetent House I've ever seen!"

That did it. Us, incompetent? And where was the great Magister Mundi when we were fighting Plague spirits and possessed Assemblymen? _He_ was the one who should have been guarding the Aegis, not a fourteen-year-old Adepta Maior, two eighteen-year-old Adepti, one of whom couldn't even work magic on command, and a twenty-seven-year-old priest of Athena who didn't believe he could work magic at all!

"Come on, Tel." I yanked him onto the disk (he didn't resist or, believe me, it would not have worked) and sent us flying back up the cave network.

"We really don't have to get into a confrontation with him," he continued to protest.

"Yes we do," Ynez declared. "It's the honor of House Criamon." In the glow of the flames, her face looked particularly fierce. Perhaps she was remembering the corpses of her uncle and five siblings, who'd survived the long journey from Spain but died just outside Athens because they couldn't find the city Thoren had concealed.

The disk sailed back out into open air and deposited us in front of a dirty, tired-looked posse of House Bonisagus mages. I smiled quickly at Irene but had no time to greet her before the oh-so-great Magister Mundi himself stomped over to us and unleashed a tirade about how our House was generally irresponsible and useless, and why _we_ were in charge of the Hearth he had no idea but, he concluded, "I warn you, my House will not sit idly by while you endanger the Aegis and all of Athens."

Did he mean what I thought he meant? Was he threatening to evict us and take over the Hearth by force? At that point I lost my temper (and, Tel would probably say, my head) entirely. Not caring that he was three whole ranks above me, I yelled right back at him, "And where were _you_ when we were fighting the Plague spirit that possessed Tiberius, and the Plague child? Shouldn't your Aegis have kept them out? What good is it?"

"What good — !" He was on the verge of exploding. "Little girl — " ( _Little girl_? Now I knew how Ynez felt) — "do you have any idea of the catastrophe we would face if the Aegis went down entirely? One Plague spirit and one Plague child are easily handled. Do you know what the population density of Athens is? Do you know how many people would _die_? Is all of House Criamon so ignorant?"

Ignorant! I gestured indignantly at my library, completely forgetting that it had burned down. "We have a perfectly good library!"

Unfortunately for my grand gesture, a chunk of scorched wall chose to collapse right then.

Thoren could not possibly have looked less impressed than he did as he raised an eyebrow and surveyed the charred remains. It _was_ a far cry from Hadrian's Library.

Luckily, Tel decided it was time to intervene. "All right, all right," he said placatingly. "It's been a long night, and we're all tired. Why don't we work together instead of arguing? What do you need us to do, Magister Mundi?"

While we'd been fighting, the rest of the Bonisagus mages had drawn their wands and begun chanting in Enochian over the leyline to reconstruct the vaporized section. A faint trickle of Quintessence began to flow down it again, which a group of them monitored intensely. Others began to clear rubble from the collapsed cave, using Ars Essentiae to float out boulders and Ars Materiae to stabilize the ceiling. Although House Bonisagus specialized in Ars Vis, it had the resources to train mages in a variety of other Spheres too.

Thoren lowered his voice a notch, but he was obviously still fuming. "We have been stabilizing the Aegis all over the city." He glared at me. " _That's_ why we weren't there to stop the Plague child." Abruptly, he called to Irene, "Cut off power to Tessa. The Aegis has to take priority over seeds just now."

"Oh, Tessa won't like that," Ynez murmured. Probably she, like me, was envisioning an irate Head of House Bjornaer showing up to demand answers next.

"I think she's planning to plant tomorrow," Tel warned. "That means she's shielding the seeds right now."

Thoren made an exasperated gesture with his arms. "She'll just have to wait! We can't let the Aegis go down." Another glare at Tel and me. "Which one of you is the ranking member of House Criamon?" If he'd bothered to learn anything about the House that powered his experiments, he'd have known the answer already.

Simultaneously, Tel and I turned to look at Ynez, the tiny fourteen-year-old girl. She stood up straight, torn skirts, bedraggled hair, and all. The top of her head just about came up to the Norwegian's chest. "I am an Adepta Maior," she proclaimed proudly.

The look of utter incredulity on Thoren's face almost made me laugh. " _You_?" he asked. " _You're_ the ranking member?"

" _Yes_ ," she said defiantly.

I hastily added, "She's very powerful."

Doubt written all over his face, Thoren resigned himself to negotiating with a young girl. "All right. We need to repair the Aegis. That is our first priority. Otherwise it goes down, and the Plague comes into the city. For that, we need _all_ the power from the Hearth."

"Can you not transfer power from the Obscura for now?" Ynez suggested, and I had to wonder if Thoren knew about her history.

The Magister Mundi sighed, looking and sounding almost human for a moment, and, to our surprise, admitted, "I already have. And in two weeks, we'll have to deal with hordes of refugees on our doorstep. Odin knows what we'll do with all of them."

"And there's no other way than to cut off all power to Tessa?"

"No, there is not."

I muttered (not trying hard to keep my voice down), "You should have designed the Aegis better then, shouldn't you? Built in more safeguards?"

He spun around. "Young lady, we built in all the safeguards we could!"

I wasn't in a mood for backing down. "Well, why don't you send over maps and diagrams so we can study the flow rates and tolerances ourselves? Then _we'll_ decide how best to allocate power."

Tel whispered in my ear, "I'm going to warn Verrus" and took off running.

Thoren was furious. "Maps! Of the Aegis? Go see for yourself! Just walk around the city!"  
I stood my ground and repeated stubbornly, "Send us the flow rates and tolerances, and we'll take a look and decide how best to allocate power." After all, _we_ were the guardians of the Hearth.

A glint of respect entered his face. "Astera never cares about engineering issues," he observed. "Very well, I'll have our people draw up a set of diagrams and send them over tomorrow."

"Thank you," I said, trying to make peace. "Would you like our report on what happened tonight?"

"Yes, that would be helpful." He sounded much calmer. "Irene! Take their report."

Just then, we heard Ynez's plaintive voice from the caves, where she'd gone during our spat to help the Bonisagi. "Mariiiina!" she wailed. "They need Ars Essentiae. Can you come help pleeeease?" Adepta Maior Ynez might be, but mistress of Ars Essentiae she was not. I saw Thoren lips twitch quickly in amusement before his stern expression returned, and I remembered his humor and patience the first time he visited the orphanage.

"Don't let me keep you," he said ironically, stepping aside to let me pass. Huh, maybe he hadn't changed that much after all.

As I joined the other Bonisagi, the youngest of the Norwegians, Leif, who was a few years older than I but had only just passed the Adeptus exam, whispered sympathetically, "If it's any consolation, he only shouts at people he considers his equals."

Lovely. So either he was kind because he deemed me a child, or he was mean because he thought I should know better? How was that an improvement?

Cleanup and repairs took another few hours, but finally at 2 a.m., Ynez and I tottered back into the dormitory. Yawning and nodding off every time I stopped walking, I did a quick check of the bedrooms, counted the children, counted them again when I lost track, gave up, shoved Timo back onto _his_ side of _my_ pillow, and toppled into bed without undressing. Ynez was already sound asleep, one hand resting on the communications stone, an Ars Conjunctionis Wonder, that Irene had given her in case of new developments. With any luck, I'd actually sleep until Timo woke me in the morning. Wouldn't that be a treat!


	3. Much Too Early on Tuesday March 2, 1490

**Much Too Early on Tuesday March 2, 1490**

As I slept my well-deserved sleep, I began to feel a pleasant warmth, like that of lying alongside a large dog under the covers. When had Timo started to generate so much body heat? Had Gus or Lily crept into bed with me? Half waking, I moaned and kicked off the blanket, but the temperature only continued to rise. Soon it felt like helping old Mother Doria stir a pot of soup over the open hearth in the kitchen. Then it was like standing a foot from my library as Tel's dragon flames consumed the walls. Too hot, too hot, too hot.

I opened my eyes to see all Athens burning.

I stood alone in the center of a little square — which my dream-self somehow knew was in the western part of Athens — surrounded by walls of fire. The flames were the Plague and the Plague was the flames, but it was also the fuel that fed the flames, and they grew and roared and spread, devouring all the shops and temples and living creatures in their path. Screams echoed from all sides as Athenians pelted out of burning homes carrying babies and bundles of possessions, dragging small children by the hand, and half-supporting, half-carrying the elderly. Thorny vines lunged like spiky tangles out of the fires and the ground and even thin air to trip or bind refugees, and one by one, the humans were torched by the flames, flaring up like candles where they stood. Billowing black smoke obscured the sky, and though I could hear all the clocks striking noon, the city remained as dark as dusk, lit only by the Plague's manic dance.

Faint, happy barking snapped me out of my trance. Completely unconcerned by the fire and thorns, as if he couldn't see them or they him, Timo bounced around a corner and barreled straight into my calves, nearly toppling me over. _Come on, come on, let's play!_ he seemed to plead as he gamboled around my ankles.

Since my brain was obviously on vacation, instinct took charge. "Let's go home, Timo," I said and took off running in the direction of the orphanage. Even though I'd completely forgotten about using magic, nevertheless I danced through the flames and vines with ease, and Timo plowed right through them and kept pace.

A few streets later, frantic footsteps pounded up to me, and I slowed slightly to see my and Tel's avatar, Cly. Now I was more certain than ever that I was dreaming, because she'd only manifested in the library before when no other humans were around, and even then she did her best to avoid the dogs. For whatever reason she feared them, even though they never did anything more than give her a bored glance or occasionally sniff at her skirts. However, she categorically refused to elaborate on her aversion beyond calling them "great slobbering beasts that chew books and drool all over priceless manuscripts." As far as my research had turned up, dogs shouldn't be able to see avatars, but then again, Timo, Gus, and Lily weren't exactly normal dogs.

"Marina!" Cly cried, "where are you _going_? The Acropolis is _that_ way!"

I knew exactly where the Acropolis was — namely, not where the orphanage was. "I'm going _home_ ," I told her, jumping away from a particularly persistent vine. "Astera will know what to do," I added, fully aware that I sounded like a frightened child, but too frightened to do anything about it.

"No, no, no, you can't go home _now_! Think of all the history happening all around us! We have to go observe it! We need to be the primary sources! Do you trust anyone else to get it right?" Cly thought of herself as my colleague in the library and frequently roamed the shelves, grumbling about inaccuracies in historical accounts.

"But — " I truly wanted nothing more than to run into Astera's study so she could assure me everything would be just fine. But this was my avatar…. Surely she knew what was best for me?

Sensing my hesitation, Cly whipped out a papyrus scroll and began scribbling the introduction to the history we would write together. "Omniae Athenae flagrabant…." She paused and glared at me. "Did Julius Caesar let someone else write his _Commentaries_?"

"Well, yes, _De Bello Gallico_ was completed by — "

"That's not the point. The point is, you have a chance to see history firsthand! Do you really trust Ynez, or Tel, or Ghallim to give an accurate eyewitness account?" She continued to draft the introduction, drawing me into a vision of joining the ranks of immortal historians.

"Thoren really doesn't like me much," I hedged, but I was weakening and she could tell.

She reassured me, "You won't even have to talk to him. You're just there to observe."

I capitulated. "Fine. I'll go to the Acropolis."

She clapped her hands in delight. "Good! Then I'll go observe Tessa. They're the major players in the city, so someone has to keep an eye on her too." Before I could protest, she ran off, the scroll trailing behind her like a streamer.

At a less-than-breakneck speed (since I just knew that Thoren's sharp eyes would spot me whether I tried to talk to him or not, and I didn't feel quite ready to face him again after our last, er, encounter), Timo and I wended our way north to the Acropolis. As soon as I reached its base, I was bombarded by the sheer force of Ars Vis. Overhead, the mages of House Bonisagus, all of them armed with rare and precious Wonders that they reserved for last-ditch fights, were casting the most powerful Effects I had ever seen, lighting up the sky with fireballs and lightning strikes. Black, thorny tentacles many times the size of those I'd seen around the city lunged at them in what looked like battle formations, only to be beaten back by volleys of Ars Vis. Behind the first line of fighting mages, others channeled Quintessence to absorb Paradox or shoot it back towards the Plague spirits. It was the most gallant, most courageous, most magnificent sight I'd ever seen. Even as I gaped up at them, the reserve mages attempted a massive ritual to teleport everyone out, only to be thwarted by a wall of vines.

But where were the mages I knew? Where were Leona and Irene and Thoren himself?

Blinding white light blazed from the Parthenon. As I wiped away tears of pain and blinked through the afterimages, I glimpsed all the senior mages clustered in front of the marble columns. Timo and I scrambled up the hill, pushing through the Bonisagi battle lines, and dashed over to the temple. There, I took one look at the beast raging around inside and wished I'd never listened to Cly. First-person accounts were highly overrated. Thoren, Leona, and Irene were fighting a monstrous fire elemental, a creature that embodied all the implacable fury of a natural force. Burning bright as the sun, it strained against magical chains and howled with the voice of a forest fire. It was the purest incarnation of the most destructive aspect of Ars Essentiae. You could not reason with it, you could not bargain with it, you could not appeal to it for mercy. It had no thought or emotion. It simply _was._

Even as I watched, as frozen as Lil had been while I fought the library fire, Thoren turned his head to speak to Leona. In that brief moment of inattention, a tentacle of fire shot straight at his chest. I opened my mouth to scream a warning, the fire elemental flared to ten times its brightness, scorching the skin on my face and burning away my eyebrows —

— and I jerked awake with a gasp, my heart pounding as crazily as if I'd just run a marathon.

I found myself in complete, blessed darkness. I had never appreciated darkness more. I'd be happy if I never saw the sun again.

After a moment of disorientation, I realized I was lying in my own bed in my own room, and Timo was licking feverishly at my hands in a desperate attempt to soothe me.

Ynez had woken at exactly the same moment, also with a gasp of terror.

"Did you just have — " we started to say at the same time.

"A dream?" I finished, holding Timo away as he tried to wash my face (my blessedly unscorched face). "Aargh, Timo, stop it!"

I heard a rustle and guessed that Ynez had nodded. "Yes." She sounded just as out of breath as I did. "Athens was on fire," she squeaked.

An involuntary shudder convulsed my body, eliciting another round of licking from Timo. "Yes. There were Plague spirit vines everywhere."

"The angel said that the vision was sent by someone." The angel? The burning city had seemed a lot more like a place for demons than the heavenly host. Well, if I'd seen Cly, Ynez had probably interacted with her avatar too. It figured that hers would take the form of her guardian angel. "The sender has an agenda."

I sat up in the darkness, stroking my eyebrows just to reassure myself that I still had them, and pulled back the curtains to check on the city. In the weak, grayish early morning light (that was _nothing_ like the harsh blaze of the Plague flames or the unbearable brilliance of the fire elemental), Athens slumbered peacefully. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, so someone, who may not be entirely trustworthy, wanted to send us a message. But what does it mean? What do we do now?"

"The angel warned me that we're too young to do anything." In the dim light, I could just make out Ynez's uncertain expression. "He said we should weather the storm, bend with the wind."

That did sound tempting. In fact, that was exactly what I'd been in the process of doing when Cly stopped me. If we believed Ynez's avatar, we could sit back and let the adults handle the situation, maybe contribute by keeping the orphans safe and fed. I was _good_ at keeping the orphans safe and fed. But we were an Adepta and an Adepta Maior, outranked only by Magistrae Scholae Astera and Tessa, and Magister Mundi Thoren. I said slowly, "I wish we could. But we're among the twenty most powerful mages in this city. If not us, then whom?"

Ynez just shook her head, looking troubled.

Timo gave a soft woof, hopped off my bed, and padded over to the center of the room. Leaning over, I saw the most bizarre sight yet — and that was saying quite a bit after the night I'd had. There was a narcissus literally growing out of the floorboards. A _narcissus_ , of all things. Curious, I got up and poked at its petals.

My finger went straight through the flower and it vanished. In fact, it had never been there.

"There!" I could hear fear in Ynez's voice. She pointed a trembling finger at the windowsill, where the narcissus now bloomed. When I approached, it again disappeared, only to pop up in the yard. If only I knew Ars Vis, I could examine it thoroughly! Was there anything in the books I'd read about narcissi in magic? Off the top of my head, all I could remember was basic botany. Not helpful. But the flower's intent was obvious in the way it rotated its blossom and cocked it at us, looking for all the world like Timo when he had run ahead and was waiting eagerly for me to catch up.

I turned back to Ynez. "It wants us to follow."

She hunched under the covers and tucked the blanket more securely around her neck. "I don't know," she said warily. "Maybe it's a trap. The angel didn't want me to get involved."

If ever a flower could exude impatience, this one did. Frustration flared its petals, and I could swear it was glaring at me. "We can follow cautiously, and run away as soon as anything feels wrong," I wheedled. For all that I felt a responsibility to investigate the narcissus, I didn't want to venture forth alone, so I played shamelessly on Ynez's sense of duty. "Come on, you know Astera's too busy to deal with this."

Sighing, she extended her magical senses toward the yard. "It's an Ars Temporis Effect," she said. "It's like someone scattered threads to the wind and happened to get us." Closing her eyes, she concentrated harder, a little frown furrowing her forehead. "They're just threads, no hooks or barbs." She sighed again and nodded with the air of one being dragged out of bed at 5 a.m. "All right, let's go."

After she'd hastily dressed, I summoned a wind disk and, together with her and my fearless puppy, glided through the silent city after the narcissus. All the shopkeepers were still abed, taverns had shut their doors at least until the sun rose, and even the farmers had yet to drive their carts through the city gates. Overhead, the sky had a pale, sickly cast to it, as though the sun hesitated to show its face after the night we'd endured. Despite the gloom, our path through the streets was clear — the narcissus was leading us straight back south towards the Aegis stone we'd seen too short a time ago.

Through the early morning mist, I made out a familiar figure several streets away — Ghallim was heading in the same direction. Had a thread from the sender of the dream brushed him as well? But why was he coming from the Tower of Winds? Had he never gone home?

I couldn't resist showing off a little. Floating us over to him and sliding to a smooth stop two feet away, I casually offered him a lift.

"I would appreciate a ride," he agreed, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stepped onto the disk. Perhaps I hadn't hidden my ulterior motive quite as well as I'd thought. "I 'ave spent all night 'elping Tessa shield ze seeds, and I only just fell asleep when I 'ad a vision."

As it turned out, Ghallim's dream had begun with him on top of the Tower of the Winds, so he'd been able to see the whole city. The entire Aegis had been on fire, each stone a bonfire that sucked the Plague into the city, our greatest protection become our final destruction as the ring of flames sealed all the exits and doomed us. The owl-Athena that had originally led Ghallim to Greece (probably _his_ avatar) warned him that the sender of the vision was hunting her but fluttered cautiously through the burning city as he hurried towards the southern Aegis stone. In the courtyard, he found a cypress tree by the fountain that seemed to be raising an eyebrow at the bonfire. It was the last thing he saw before he, too, woke to a trail of springtime blossoms.

As my wind disk bore us forward, Ghallim and I spotted Gus and Lily running down the side streets in the same direction as us, which was odd — they almost never left the orphanage. Timo barked a joyful greeting and, before I could stop him, hopped off the disk (which was only a couple feet off the ground) and scampered up to his parents for an affectionate licking marathon. Some things really did run in the family. (If I ever found a way to transform Gus and Lily back into humans, they'd better keep their tongues to themselves! I was _not_ bailing them out of jail every time a visitor took offense at their, um, unorthodox salutation.) I glided over to offer the dogs a ride too, but unlike Ghallim they preferred to pad along under their own power.

* * *

And so the six of us came to the familiar courtyard with the decorative fountain and the warning signs. Thoren's people had evidently been hard at work here, for the Aegis stone was back upon its carved pedestal, and a hasty scrubbing had removed most traces of Tiberius' blood from the cobblestones, although the scorch marks on the ground remained.

What was new was a breach in the city wall, sealed by a makeshift leyline that pulsed feebly in the pre-dawn light. _That_ didn't look good.

As we studied the repairs and speculated on why the narcissus had led us back here, Lily abruptly lifted her head and stared intently through the breach in the wall. Following her gaze, I made out a figure with a walking staff and a strange deformity about the shoulder approaching us from the _outside_. Thoren _had_ said that the Obscura was down. Although in theory I understood that now anyone, even Sleepers, could find Athens, and that accepting refugees (such as Ynez) was certainly more humane than letting them starve within a few miles of the city walls, I hadn't really thought through the implications of letting just anyone into the city. Now that we were actually faced with such an eventuality, I found that — selfishly — I didn't like the ramifications, such as Plague bearers poisoning my home if the Aegis failed. And if ever there were a weak spot in our shield, this was it.

Tensely, I strained to see the man through the glow of the Aegis. He appeared to be middle-aged and tall, taller even than Ghallim, who stood a head above Ynez and me, with a luxuriant black beard. Slung from one shoulder (causing the "deformity" I'd first noticed) was a large battle horn. As far as my magical senses could discern, he didn't have the Plague. I sagged with relief, but not for long — for as he drew closer to the breach, the dogs suddenly tore out of the city towards him, like hounds to their master.

"Stop!" I cried. "Come back!" But though they glanced back at the sound of my voice, they ignored my command. What would I tell Tel if I lost his parents? What would I do if I lost Timo?

To my dismay, Lily, Timo, and even wary Gus took one sniff at the stranger and immediately greeted him like their packmaster. He paused briefly to pet them in a perfunctory manner — I could detect neither warmth nor hostility in his gestures — before continuing towards us at a measured pace, the dogs obediently trailing behind. I'd never seen anything like it, and it was all I could do not to dash forward and rescue my puppy.

Ghallim gave Ynez and me a meaningful look and subtly prepared himself for a fight. Stepping off the wind desk, he adopted a deceptively casual stance by the fountain. Following his lead, I drew out a piece of wood and pocketknife, concealing them in my skirts, while Ynez angled a mirror in the man's direction. Before she could read his surface thoughts, though, it slid out of her hands as if oiled, and she barely caught it before she lost a second mirror to the cobblestones. Vicious things, cobblestones.

When the man reached the Aegis barrier, it let him through without a flicker, which meant that he should be free of the Plague. After whatever trick he'd pulled with the dogs, however, I didn't trust him at all. Surprisingly, he ran a quick glance over us as if he'd expected our presence and merely wanted to ascertain that we were all accounted for, and immediately addressed himself to our ranking member. "Child," he said to Ynez in a sonorous tone, "I am Thanos bani Solificati."

At that, Ynez bristled, and I stiffened. Only twenty years ago, House Solificati (well, fine, one influential member of it, Heylel Teomim) had betrayed the First Cabal to the Order of Reason, and the bitterness and mistrust still ran deep. For one thing, the Solificati unrepentantly maintained that the betrayal was meant to highlight the Traditions' disunity and inspire us to greater cooperation, not to destroy us. None of us believed it for an instant.

"I see from your attire that you're of House Criamon," Thanos bani Solificati continued, showing off his erudition (the Solificati took sinful pride in calling themselves the "Children of Knowledge"). "You, an Adepta Maior, and you, an Adepta." So he'd memorized a lot of facts about our House, including our insignia — was that supposed to impress me? His gaze roved on to Ghallim and took in his spear appraisingly. "And _you_ hold your spear just like Athena."

Ghallim didn't relax one bit.

"What are you doing here?" Ynez, still acting as our representative, asked bravely.

"I am here to avert disaster," he declared, as matter-of-factly as if he'd entered a bar and declared that he was there to order beer. "I assume you're here to help me."

Well, arrogance and presumption _were_ House Solificati's downfall, weren't they?

Ynez lifted her chin proudly. "I must insist that you meet our Prima, Magistra Scholae Astera, and explain to her what it is you intend to do here."

"There is no time." His tone was dismissive, and instead of looking at her as he spoke, he was staring around the courtyard as if to memorize the construction of the Aegis. "We must act before sunrise, otherwise disaster will come to pass."

"What disaster?" asked Ghallim suspiciously.

"How did you get here?" I inquired at the same time.

To me, he answered tersely, "I walked. From Corinth." And to Ghallim: "Disaster like the one you saw in your dream."

"What _exactly_ are you planning to do?" asked Ynez.

"I am going to delay Tessa for a week, to buy time to deal with other disasters. It needs to be done before sunrise. You can help me or not, but if you do not, I will not fight you — I will simply leave and let the vision come to pass."

Before sunrise? Delay Tessa? But what was Tessa doing and why would we need to delay her? A memory from last night: Tel saying, "She's planning to plant tomorrow." Thoren ordering Irene, "Cut off power to Tessa. The Aegis has to take priority." And, not so long ago, Ghallim telling us that he'd spent all night shielding seeds.

In a flash, Thanos' intent came clear to me — we needed to channel all the power from the Hearth to the Aegis, as Thoren had said, to prevent its collapse, and to do so we needed to prevent Tessa from drawing power to sow her seeds. And since the planting would commence at sunrise….

Ynez said with all the dignity of a young girl who wants to be treated like an adult, "Please excuse us for a moment while we confer."

Which, in this case, meant stepping away from Thanos and huddling over our Foci, but I doubted he expected anything else anyway. He probably already knew exactly what we planned to do. Ars Temporis practitioners!

Covertly tilting her mirror towards Thanos, Ynez murmured something in Latin about revealing his _peccata_. I shamelessly peered over her shoulder at the mirror to see Ynez's reflection standing alone in the Umbra, skeletons lying all around her. Then her image melted, to be replaced by a much younger Thanos, perhaps twenty years old, arguing with someone familiar — wait, was it _Tessa_? — over whether he could go adventuring. A sense of recklessness and rebellion pervaded the entire scene, followed by a wash of horror at the ensuing calamity, deep remorse, and finally a veneer of acceptance.

Meanwhile, Ghallim uttered a swift prayer and whispered urgently to us, "Everything 'e wears eez magical — everything!" The longing in his voice was almost palpable. "See 'ow 'is clothing repels sweat and dust, and 'is shoes show no sign of wear? And zat _horn_ …." he added, so impressed that he actually made the effort to pronounce the "h."

As it happened, I could empathize. Even without Ars Vis, I could sense that Thanos' battle horn was ancient and powerful, easily the most ancient and powerful artifact I'd ever seen. And its beauty — oh, how to describe it? The bone from which it had been carved was all one piece and had obviously come from some massive mythological beast; the passing of the centuries had softened its brilliant whiteness to a gentle ivory hue and polished its surface until it glowed like the illuminated manuscripts Ashton so loved. And the carvings! As delicate and lifelike as the metopes running all around the Parthenon, they depicted a raid by Greek heroes on Mount Olympus itself. I could write a book on the horn and devote an entire chapter to the carvings and their symbolism, I thought.

But Ghallim hadn't finished. He tore his eyes away from the horn and continued softly, "And 'e is surrounded by Temporal echoes." He pointed at a young cypress that had sprouted from the cobblestones and was shooting up at the rate of a few inches every minute. "I saw zat tree in my dream. And I don't believe 'e eez lying to us." Well, that was encouraging. "Athena says 'e is very powerful, but neither good nor evil." He heaved a sigh and relaxed visibly.

Well, time to stop standing around drooling over the horn. I could use Ars Fati to verify one of Thanos' statements, but which one? He'd made so _many_ dubious claims. Still, in the end, our decision hinged on whether we believed that catastrophes would occur if we didn't delay Tessa for a week. Under my breath, I muttered a little poem, "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm telling the truth, are you too?" Immediately, the truth rang clear as a bell in my mind — not only did we need to delay Tessa, but we needed to stop her entirely!

"He's right," I announced, not bothering to keep my voice down. "We have to stop Tessa. It's the only way."

Overhearing, Thanos remarked, "I said 'delay,'" but I ignored him.

Ynez nodded. "I agree. I think we have to help Thanos." Turning back to him, she addressed him in that formal I'm-an-Adepta-Maior-and-a-woman-grown voice, "Magister, what exactly do you require of us for this ritual?"

He waved his hand carelessly. "It really is of little significance to the sacrifice. Help as you are able."

Well, that was suitably vague.

"But Magister," Ynez pointed out reasonably, "how can we assist you if we don't even know which Artes to use or what we're trying to do?"

Thanos was squinting at the distant horizon for signs of first light. "Very well, if it will convince you to stop asking questions and wasting time, I am going to tap into the leyline and channel power through my horn to the Tower of the Winds to freeze Tessa in time. We will use Artes Temporis, Mentis, and Essentiae. Satisfied now?"

Ynez still looked troubled, perhaps worrying over his use of the word "sacrifice." I didn't like it either.

"One more question," I said, and he sighed. "Why do you care about Athens?" If I could understand why a master of Ars Temporis would walk all the way from Corinth just to be our unlikely savior, perhaps I'd understand whether we could trust him. Surely there were other cities under assault by the Plague. Surely there were other humans in need of rescue. Why here? Why us?

Whatever I might have expected, it wasn't the answer he gave. "I was born here," he replied simply. He sounded entirely earnest and I nodded, accepting his explanation. After all, I felt the same way. We were Athenians, and Athenians simply did not stand by and watch Athens fall. It was as easy as that.

Not to Ghallim, who proposed casually, as if suggesting a game of cards or another pitcher of ale, "You could, of course, be 'ere to provoke a war between ze 'Ouses."

In an equally offhand voice, Thanos agreed, "I could. You'll just have to trust me. Now, as I told you, it is of little import to me whether we perform this ritual, but if we do, we need to start _now_." And he pointed at the ever-brightening sky. At any moment, the sun would send its first rays over the horizon and it would be too late.

One final exchange of glances, a collective breath, and then Ynez spoke for all of us. "We are ready, Magister."

Thanos immediately began to weave a beautiful, complex pattern to create a time shield. The ritual drained power from the leyline almost as fast as it flowed down the channel and compressed all the Quintessence into the courtyard. The further away from him, the more unbearable the sense of being squeezed and flattened, until we all took a few steps closer to him. Ynez sank gracefully onto the cobblestones, skirts rippling out around her, and arranged mirrors and candles in a circle around herself for the Ars Mentis component she would contribute. Ghallim dropped to his knees and prayed soundlessly to add to the main Ars Temporis Effect. I edged closer to Thanos and began to carve a miniature version of his horn. Although I couldn't capture the shade and texture of the bone, I did my best to reproduce the swoop of its curves and the intricacy of its carvings. My Ars Essentiae Effect would help to shape and guide the blast of power when he released it.

Unknown to anyone else, I also modified the ritual according to what Ars Fati had told me, revising its intent so that Tessa would _never_ plant.

At the height of the ritual, just before the first rays of light illumined the city, Thanos reverently lifted the horn. But before he touched it to his lips, he had one final question for us: "Why do you think I needed you?"

"Because you're not strong enough on your own," Ynez said promptly.

"Because you want to 'ide your Resonance behind ours." Ghallim, mercenary instincts at work, remained suspicious.

"Because you wanted to learn our abilities," I suggested.

Thanos smiled a little, a smile of true pleasure, I thought. "No, no, and no, although I did find you more interesting than I'd expected. Do you know what happens after a big ritual?"

What happened after a ritual? Images of exhausted mages filled my mind, mages worn out both physically and mentally and suffering horribly from —

His betrayal felt like a dagger through my belly. " _You're going to offload the Paradox onto us_?" Was this how the First Cabal had felt as the Order of Reason closed in, and they besought their leader for guidance only to behold his smug expression?

Thanos gave me an approving smile. "Close. I'm going to distribute it evenly."

And then, before we could take a single action, the sun's first rays lanced across our faces, and Thanos put his lips to his horn and blew a single clear musical note that reverberated through my entire body. Its purity suffused my ears, eyes, bones, and organs, and it was so beautiful that I felt as if I were drowning and longed for it to end, and yet at the same time wept that it must. And the note rushed through me as inexorably as Poseidon's tsunami, draining me and leaving me empty, and the wave grew as it roared towards the Tower of the Winds, gathering strength and building, building, building —

I saw the top of the tower glowing gold and pink with dawn's first light.

I saw the crest of the note crash into it, breaking over its tip and instantly freezing it in an electric blue light that hissed and crackled like Zeus' thunderbolt.

And I saw the wave of Paradox that rebounded off the tower to rush back, distorting the air and bending trees like willow twigs.

Thanos calmly blew a little concluding trill, dividing the Paradox and shunting a quarter of it towards each of us. As the main creator of the ritual, he should have taken the brunt of the backlash. Small wonder that he hadn't cared about our abilities — our true contribution was as targets for Paradox!

"No!" I tried to cry, but it was too late.

Paradox hit like a gale, battering the three of us to the ground. Thanos merely braced himself on his walking stick and weathered the impact, beard and clothing flapping wildly.

And then there was silence, broken only by the miserable sounds of moaning and retching.

* * *

I found myself curled up in a fetal position by the base of the fountain, cheek pressed to a cobblestone. The stone was cool, solid, reassuring. It did nothing to soothe my migraine. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the world to stop spinning.

As if from a distance, I heard Thanos' voice. "Use the time I have bought you wisely, young ones. She will not be caught unawares again."

Footsteps tapped on stone, growing fainter.

A rustle of fabric and more retching. The stench of bile filled the air. "Wait," Ynez's voice croaked. "Wait. Where are you going?"

"To meet with Thoren, of course."

More gagging as she tried and failed to rise. "I must — I must insist — that you meet with — Astera. Immediately."

A pause. I could imagine him frowning at the delay to his plans. "Very well. She is busy with her young charge, but I will meet with her first. As a favor to you."

Ynez collapsed again as the footsteps faded into silence.

After I don't know how long, the migraine and nausea eased enough for me to open my eyes. Instantly a golden mass filled my vision, followed by a pink tongue. "Hi," I breathed, stretching a trembling hand towards Timo. Without moving my head, I rotated my eyeballs until I saw Ynez and Ghallim lying on the ground nearby, Gus and Lily fretting and whining over them. At least the dogs were all right. At least _someone_ was all right.

Cly's face blocked my view. She had such a look of abject horror that adrenaline kicked in and boosted me into a sitting position before my stomach caught up and heaved up more bile. "Cly," I croaked. "Cly, what's wrong?" Had the ritual backfired and destroyed Athens? What had we done?

Cly's eyes focused on me. "He made it up!" she gasped.

Thanos. Had he lied to us all along? "Made up _what_? Cly, tell me!"

"The Battle of Marathon! It never happened! Herodotus made it all up! Plutarch was right!"

None of it made any sense, but as it didn't seem urgent, I slumped back down, resting my head awkwardly on the base of the fountain.

"You're not upset at all," she accused.

Ghallim's expression, "Zat eez accurate" came to mind, but I was in too much pain for humor. Instead I tried — and failed — to shift my neck into a more comfortable position without moving my head. "Cly," I groaned, "I got three hours of sleep, I want to throw up, and _my head hurts_."

"Well," she snapped, " _I'm_ going to fix this!" And she stormed off.

I might have tried to follow, but fluttering wings and flying feathers filled my vision next. An elegant golden homing pigeon alighted beside me, pecked vigorously at the ground, slurped up an earthworm, and then turned messily and gruesomely back into Tel.

"Ugh!" he cried, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Ugh! I can't believe I did that! Oh gods, how many worms did I eat? Marina, Marina, what happens when humans eat worms? Will I be okay?"

Imagining Tel — in human form — eating a slimy wiggling squishy pink worm was just too much. Hunching over to a side so I mostly missed my skirts, I noisily vomited up everything left in my stomach. The mess on the stones only made me heave harder.

Warm hands held back my hair and supported my shoulders so I wouldn't fall face-first into the puddle of —

Tel carefully propped me back against the fountain and squatted in front of me. "Hey, Marina, are you okay? What happened to Ghallim? Is Ynez all right?"

Ynez only huddled into a ball and hid her face in her arms, but Ghallim painfully dragged himself over to lean on the fountain beside me. What happened to us? Where should we even start? We gave Tel what was possibly the most incoherent eyewitness account ever. (Cly would be appalled.) "There was a man — " "A flower led us here — " "He said if we didn't help him, our dream would come true — " "Oh no, we froze the Tower of the Winds — "

"Oh, is that why I woke to find myself falling off the Tower? Did Verrus throw me out a window or something to save me?" Tel mused before homing in — haha — on the important part. "Hang on a sec. A _stranger_ said he could make your dreams _not_ come true, and you _believed_ him?"

Well, when he put it that way….

However, that, to Ynez, was definitely not the most important part. "You spent the night with Verrus?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Still too disturbed by the morning's events, Tel failed to notice her distress. "Yes, of course I did," he said impatiently. "Where else would I have been?"

In an even smaller, even more miserable tone, Ynez said, "Oh," and huddled tighter, keeping her expression well hidden.

As the sunlight in the courtyard steadily increased, a terrible thought occurred to me. "Oh no!" I exclaimed. "Oh no oh no oh no. What time is it?"

Tel looked around. "About 7:10, I'd guess. Why?"

"We have class at 7:30! We can't be late to class! Astera will _kill_ us."

Tel was incredulous. "You think Astera will have _class_ today after what happened last night?"

"Of course she will!"

Ynez groaned. "Ooooh, she's right. We have to go home."

"No, we really don't. There won't be class today. Even if we did, Astera would understand if we skipped. And — Ghallim, what in the name of all the gods is _that_?"

Ghallim was playing with a long branch and looking pleased with himself. "Zis eez a cypress branch from Thanos' tree. I cut eet off when 'e was not looking. I will see if I can make eet into a spear." At least _someone_ had gotten something positive out of that ritual.

Crawling over to Ynez, I pillowed my head on her back. "Okay, okay. Here's what we'll do. We'll lie here for ten more minutes, then I'll get my wind disk, and then we'll go back for class."

She nodded weakly.

"Zat eez an excellent proposal. I 'ave a counterproposal," Ghallim suggested. "'Ow about you don't go to class and we go out for drinks?"

"I agree," said Tel promptly. "What he said."

Ynez muttered in a muffled voice, "But we need to tell Mater about Thanos and Tessa. Oh, what have we done?"

"Oh no," I suddenly realized. "Astera will kill us if we tell her! Maybe we shouldn't go back!"

But eventually, like the good children we were, we did drag ourselves back to the orphanage, slouching guiltily into the caves just as the clocks struck 8:00, while Ghallim — lucky Ghallim, who had finished school long ago — returned to his workshop. To my simultaneous relief and consternation, Tel was right about class — "I _told_ you so," he ribbed me. But I was also partly right, since we did find everyone in the classroom, clustered anxiously around Ashton's sickbed. The poor boy was pale and unconscious, breathing shallowly.

Astera looked as relieved to see us as Tel was to see that there was no class, which was definitely saying something. "Children!" she cried, checking us worriedly and clucking at our bruises. "Are you all right?"

"No! Mater! I got thrown off the Tower of the Winds! I could have _died_! And then I turned into a _pigeon_ and ate a bunch of _worms_!" Tel's plaintive complaints drew only a comforting pat on the shoulder from Astera.

Ynez still wasn't looking anyone in the eye. Addressing the floor, she asked, "Mater, did Magister Thanos come by?"

"Yes, he did! I'm so angry with him — and with all of you! You had a forced vision and didn't come to me? You went off to listen to a complete stranger? Don't you know how easy it is to manipulate people with forced visions?"

Ynez and I hung our heads and mumbled excuses. "But he was born here." "He knows Tessa."

Astera cringed as if her worst fears had just come true. "I don't know him. I am angry with him for using you as shields, but I can't deal with him right now." She looked down meaningfully at Ashton. "Go get some rest."

"Just to double-check," Tel said hopefully, "there's no class _at all_ today, right?"

She sighed. "No, Tel, there's no class. Now go sleep. You can tell me more later. Oh, and stay close, children. I reinforced our wards and we're safest here." She left the room, perhaps to take Ghallim's report and berate him for not guiding us better. Tel, despite having gotten a few more hours of sleep than the rest of us, immediately lay down on the floor beside Ashton's bed for a nap. Ynez and I returned to our bedroom.

When we woke, we found both Cly and a bonfire in the yard. She was flinging books into the flames, muttering furiously, "And Plutarch and Thucydides were trained by Herodotus, and Caesar was influenced by him…." Then she started ripping out pages from other books and burning them too.

"Who's _that_?" Ynez demanded.

Tel cocked his head to a side. "Who wears laurel crowns anymore?"

They could see her? My avatar had manifested? What was going on here? And why was she burning my library?

Oh. Oh. My Paradox backlash.

From the ritual.

Now I knew _exactly_ what had happened. And I was going to _kill_ Thanos when I saw him.


	4. Tues March 2 to Wed March 3, 1490

**Tuesday March 2 to Wednesday March 3, 1490**

"Cly!" I shrieked, "Cly! Stop it!"

"You _know_ this woman, Marina?" Tel asked curiously. "Who is she? What's she doing here? And why's she burning your books?"

Our avatar herself answered his questions. "I am burning these books," she said sternly, "because they are full of lies. I am purging history of all falsehoods so we can transmit a _pure_ version to posterity."

"No!" I cried. "You can't burn books just because you don't like what's written in them! And — is that the _Historia_?" Among the tomes tossed carelessly around Cly's feet, some half open, many scuffed and ripped, and all of them covered in dirt, were the three volumes Leona had lent me. The ones I'd only _thought_ Sy had destroyed yesterday. I snatched them up and leafed through them frantically. Please be intact, please be intact. If I were Ghallim, I'd be praying like a madwoman. Please be intact. A partially torn page flapped at me. "Oh no, I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead Leona and Irene are going to skin me alive," I mumbled.

"But who _is_ she?" Ynez repeated Tel's question.

I ran my fingers through my hair and gripped it until my scalp hurt, willing myself to calm down. "Tel," I said with wild laugh, "Tel, this is Cly. She's our avatar!"

"Our avatar?" Tel asked in utter confusion as Cly indignantly humphed, "I am most certainly not anyone's avatar. I don't know why you keep saying that, Marina." And she tossed another book into the fire.

Pounding footsteps heralded Ghallim's arrival. "I smelled burning…." His voice trailed off as he took in the scene — Cly, the bonfire of books, me in a state of shock, Ynez entirely perplexed, Tel curious and a little amused by the entire situation. "What eez going on 'ere?"

Before any of us could speak, Cly explained in a perfectly reasonable tone that she'd discovered that many of the historical texts had been corrupted by lies, starting from Herodotus and continuing through the centuries of writers who drew upon his works uncritically. "I'm correcting the situation," she explained. "Marina, pull yourself together. It's for the good of humanity."

"The good of humanity?" I cried wildly, brandishing the mutilated _Historia_ at her. "What about _this_ human? The one who's going to get _skinned alive_?"

"Who's getting skinned alive?" Ghallim demanded. "If anyone eez getting skinned alive, that eez a crime and I am obligated to prevent eet."

"Me!" "No one." Cly and I spoke at the same time.

While we argued about whether Irene would be _glad_ that her book had undergone purification by fire, Tel disappeared for a few moments, Ynez traipsing after him like a puppy and ogling his back, to return with two large buckets of water that he tossed on the flames. With an angry hiss, the bonfire died, leaving behind charred corpses of books.

Cly glared at him in frustration. "Now why did you do that?" But she couldn't help but give his figure an admiring examination.

So accustomed to the female gaze that it probably didn't even register, Tel ignored her and poked cautiously at some blackened pages. "So that's our avatar?" he asked me. "That's the thing Astera was going on about that one time, right — the thing that allows us to do magic?"

"Thing!" cried Cly indignantly.

"Marina, you can have her. I think I want a different one."

"You and me both!" Still kneeling on the ground, I stacked the Criamon library books into a tidy pile and pulled Volume Two of _De_ _Historia Artium Magicarum_ into my lap, tenderly probing the damaged binding. An Ars Essentiae Effect should glue it back together nicely, but how could I reconstruct the original pages? Perhaps I could ask Ghallim to pray to restore an older version of the books, although Astera had stressed over and over that using magic to fix Paradox backlashes was akin to taking _more_ hallucinogenic herbs to try to exit a trance. (No matter how tempting, it just didn't work.)

"Give that to me, Marina!" Cly shouted. "It's an abomination unto serious scholarship and must be purged!"

Ghallim cleared his throat loudly. "Well, 'ow about zis proposition? Ze books could 'ave 'idden messages in zem, disguised as lies. Per'aps zey need to be decoded. In zat case, you should not burn ze books just because zey contain inaccuracies."

To everyone's relief, she was captivated by the idea. "Why, that is absolutely fascinating! I never thought of it that way! Are you an expert on decoding hidden messages? I've tried for years to translate Linear A — maybe you can take a look?" And she towed him into the library, chattering at him about indecipherable scripts. Over his shoulder, Ghallim gave me a wink, and I mouthed a heartfelt "thank you" at him.

Once Cly was safely away, Tel sat down beside the remains of the fire and tugged at — a dog collar around his neck? Come to think of it, why was he wearing a fur coat in March? He'd never been that sensitive to the cold; in fact, I was pretty sure that Ynez's massive crush on him had been triggered by the sight of his bare chest last fall.

Speaking of Ynez, wasn't Ars Manes what you used to interact with avatars? "Ynez, _please_ , can you do something about Cly?"

She cast a dubious look at the library, from which emanated an animated discussion of ancient scripts, but pulled out a mirror anyway. Thanks be to Tel for the crumbling walls! It meant that even out in the yard, she had line of sight on Cly. But after glaring into the mirror for only a moment, Ynez said in disgust, "Something's obfuscating my vision. I'm starting to think that I'm blocked from looking at avatars on the orphanage grounds. I'm going to try talking to her." And all four feet ten inches of her stomped off towards the library to interrogate Cly in person. Tel gave an experimental "woof" and tagged along like an oversized lapdog.

I decided that I was probably better off not knowing what he was doing.

Cradling an armful of books, I headed for the overflow dormitory and warehouse building. For the past month I'd been toying with the idea of converting part of it into a second library wing anyway, and now that the main library was out of commission (at least until we learned Ars Materiae, which could take a while), it seemed like a good time to start. Unlocking the empty bedroom closest to the entrance, I began stacking books tidily in a corner.

Once I'd transferred all the books from the yard into the new library wing, I joined the others in the old library. If I'd been expecting to walk into a discussion of Linear A or Egyptian hieroglyphs, I was entirely wrong. What I did hear was Tel asking Cly, "Can you turn me into a puppy?"

"No, of course not! I told you already, I don't do magic!"

Sidling up to Ghallim, I whispered, "Why does Tel want to turn into a dog?"

Ghallim, looking as if he'd rather be in the middle of a hand-to-hand combat with ten Marauder bandits than in a burnt-out library listening to a crazy teenaged boy beg his even crazier avatar to transform him into a household pet, whispered back to me, "'E believes zat if 'e wants desperately enough to turn into an animal, 'e will. Zat eez why 'e eez wearing a collar and a fur coat."

Entirely undeterred by Cly's denials, Tel changed tack. "Well, if not a puppy, any cute animal will do. How about a _really cute_ lion cub?"

With a baleful glare, Cly ignored his request and instead launched into a rant on the use of lion symbolism in history. While she expounded on the references in various texts through the millennia, Ynez edged up to Tel and mouthed something in his ear before whispering to us, "Observing her is preventing her from dematerializing." At my nod, she skillfully shepherded Ghallim and Tel out of the library.

Cly didn't even notice. "Marina," she said to me, "we must pin down a date for that conflagration."

"Uh, today is March 2nd."

"No, no, no! The one in the dream! We must have an accurate date for that history we're writing…." As I made noises of assent and drifted around the room preparing scrolls for transfer, Cly eventually stopped interacting with physical objects and settled down in a corner to read Henry Sallustius, whose prose style she claimed was the purest incarnation of historical writing. I took that to mean that she'd at last dematerialized and the worst of the Paradox backlash was over.

* * *

While I was dealing with Tel's and my avatar, the others had headed to the classroom to check on Ashton, and that was where I found them, hovering over the sleeping boy and anxiously querying Astera about his condition. Remembering a cryptic statement he'd made last night, I asked her, "How long has Ashton been here?"

"A very long time," she replied.

"Yes, but how long exactly?"

To my surprise, Astera was suspiciously vague. "Oh, I don't remember exactly. A very long time."

Ynez objected, "But you're a mistress of Ars Temporis. Surely you know."

"Yes, but time is just a series of landmarks." Which was about the most evasive answer I'd ever gotten. Ghallim, himself a practitioner of Ars Temporis whether he knew it or not, looked equally puzzled.

"How long has Tel been here?" I persisted. "Has _he_ been here as long as Ashton?"

Astera gave a little laugh. "Oh, no."

Tel, meanwhile, had been pursuing his own train of thought entirely. Now he inquired, "Do you think Ashton needs a puppy desperately? Every thirteen-year-old needs a puppy desperately, right?"

Ynez stared at him hopefully. " _I_ do," she said, trying a little too hard to sound smooth. In the process of nudging Timo towards her, I suddenly caught her meaning and snickered a bit too loudly. She turned bright pink.

I couldn't tell what Astera knew, or had guessed, about Tel's latest scheme, but she sighed heavily. "Keep watch over Ashton, will you? I'm going to rest for a few hours."

Tel nodded eagerly and panted at her (Ghallim raised his eyes to the ceiling in a silent appeal to Athena) before curling up on the floor next to Ashton's bed. Even with the fur coat, he couldn't have resembled a puppy less, but Timo gleefully bounded around him in a circle and curled up next to him anyway. Still blushing and averting her eyes, Ynez took a more decorous seat at one of the desks on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, Astera looked as if she might comment on their behavior — normally she'd have called them to her office long before this for a stern lecture — but as testimony to her exhaustion, she merely sighed again and left the room.

True to our word, we kept watch over Ashton for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally feeling his forehead for a fever or simply holding his hand and chattering at him about inconsequential gossip. He never woke or responded in any way. Ynez did point out after a few hours that a couple of the other children were always present — they seemed to have worked out some sort of rotation amongst themselves so that two of them were always by Ashton's side. But they never included any of us in their calculations.

"Marina," Gordon informed me when he and Jamie came in for their shift, "there's a mage here with something for you. She said her name is Irene?"

Oh no, Irene had come in person? What if she saw the damaged _Historia_? Casting about desperately for ideas, I noticed Sy sitting in the corner and had a brilliant idea. "Sy," I said, hurrying over to him and crouching in front of him. "Sy, Sy, Sy, I really need a favor from you."

Mischief immediately replaced the anxiety in his eyes. "Anything, Marina," he told me sweetly. Then he added, "For a price, of course."

"Yes, anything! Please, I need your help _now_!"

"Uh, Marina," warned Ynez, "did you just promise Sy to do _anything_ for him?"

Beyond caring, I begged him, "Will you find that book you and Jamie stole yesterday — all three volumes — and hide it from Irene? Please please please?"

A delighted grin nearly split his face in two. "Why, of _course_ , Marina! I'd be happy to!" With a quick nod at Gordon, Sy dashed off.

I paused to smooth out my skirts and pat my hair before sailing forth with great dignity to greet Irene. I needn't have bothered. She was peering in distress over the burned library walls and muttering about the state of the papyrus scrolls.

"Good evening, Irene," I greeted her politely while casting covert glances around to make sure Sy and the _Historia_ were nowhere in sight. As promised, they had vanished quite thoroughly.

Irene whirled at my approach. "Oh Marina, this is most distressing! This is the worst backlash I've ever seen! What are you going to do now?"

Doing my best not to look guilty, I explained about the spare bedrooms and the new library wing. "It would be really helpful to have someone renew the Ars Conjunctionis wards on the Hearth logs," I added. "I can't do it myself, and I really hate to bother Astera when she's so busy."

As a fellow librarian, Irene empathized. "Yes, of course, of course! I have a new assistant who'd be perfect for the job. I'll talk to her about it. But in the meantime, here is the diagram that we promised you." She extended a large scroll of parchment to me. It had been sealed with the two crossed keys of House Bonisagus. "You'll find a detailed map of the Aegis, plus additional schematics. Our Zelators have worked on it all day." She smirked a little. "They're not too pleased with you."

Well, why should I care if a bunch of second-degree Bonisagi apprentices liked me or not? "Thanks, Irene. I appreciate it."

Out of reflexive politeness, she replied courteously, "Anytime. Well, preferably not, but you know what I mean."

After I'd accompanied her to the edge of the yard and bade her a good night, I hurried back to our room to pore over the diagram. There I found Ynez surrounded by a sea of candles — certainly more than was safe in such a small space filled with flammable objects, and when she had such a minimal grasp of Ars Essentiae. She looked up guiltily when I entered, probably remembering all my past lectures on fire safety, and hastily began snuffing them out. Luckily for her, I was too preoccupied to scold her and merely helped.

"Marina?" Ynez asked tentatively. "Do you think it would be all right to go into Astera's dreams?"

That was a hard one. I certainly had questions for Astera that I knew she'd refuse to answer, and I could tell she was withholding critical information — but invading her mind? Seeing my hesitation, Ynez suggested instead, "How about Ashton's? Would that be all right?"

After considering the different philosophical schools of thought, we concluded that it was acceptable to enter someone's dreams without permission if it were for the greater good, which, in this case, it manifestly was (well, it was for Ashton's good, anyway, which translated into the good of everyone at the orphanage who loved him). At her request, I tucked the Aegis diagram under my arm and followed her back into the classroom-turned-sickroom, where we found Tel still hard at work on his puppy impersonation, and Helen and Sy conversing in hushed tones in the far corner. With anxious expressions, they watched Ghallim examine Ashton with Ars Temporis. He was too busy muttering about parasitic tendrils of time and the fabric of time resembling a curse to notice our arrival, so Ynez slipped into the shadows by the door and began fumbling around in her pockets for the appropriate mirror. (Don't ask me how her mirrors differed, but she had a specific one for Ars Mentis.) "Drat," she muttered. "Marina, did I leave any mirrors in our room?"

I couldn't remember, but I did notice Sy trying to hide something reflective behind his back and jerked my head in his direction. "Is that it?"

"Sy!" she exclaimed, hurrying up to him. "Give that back!"

In their tussle, Sy lost his hold on the mirror and dropped it on the cave floor, shattering it into splinters of glass.

"Sy! What have you done?" Ynez cried.

To his credit, he did look genuinely guilty. "I'm sorry, Ynez. I didn't mean to do it. But you really shouldn't use it on Ashton."

"And why not?"

He squirmed under her glare. "Because it's just better if you don't."

"Sylvester," Ynez said threateningly, switching on her full intensity and practically radiating menace at him. "If you want to help Ashton, Sylvester, tell me _exactly what you mean_."

"Aww, Ynez, c'mon." He squirmed some more but finally muttered, "Ashton isn't entirely human."

"What?" all four of us — but not Helen — cried. "What do you mean he's not entirely human?"

"It's complicated," he said reluctantly, scuffing his toe on the floor. "But if Ashton doesn't get better, we need to find him a friend. Else he'll die."

"A friend?" asked Tel, confused and a little hurt. "But we're his friends!"

"Umm, it's not the same…."

I pulled Ynez aside. "Is Ashton a spirit?" I whispered in her ear.

She gave a different mirror a cursory glance before shaking her head. "Something's blocking my vision on him too."

Suddenly, a burst of energy erupted from Sy — a very very powerful Ars Fati Effect that extinguished all the lights in the room. It wasn't Awakened magic — it was something much more ancient and inscrutable.

"Sy!" I cried, reaching out for the little boy I knew. "Sy, what's going on?"

My hands found only empty air, but all around us, his words echoed in a much older voice that chilled me. The thing that was — and was not — Sy proclaimed, "We appreciate your concern, young ones, but this is very dangerous. You should stay out of it and let us deal with our own."

Half a minute later, all the lights came back on. Sy was gone.

But Helen remained, rocking a doll in her arms and crooning a lullaby.

"Helen," I asked tentatively. "Helen, are you one of them too?"

She looked up at me playfully and drew a finger across her lips. "Nope, can't tell you. My lips are sealed."

"Helen — " Ynez began, but I suddenly burst out in anguish, "Do you actually _need_ me to take care of you? Do you actually need to me to — to round you up and get you to class on time, and make sure you take your baths and turn in your homework? Was it all just a lie? Do you really _need_ me for anything?"

Helen gave me a hurt look. "Of course we do. Those things are important."

"Helen!"

Around that time, Ynez took over the interrogation and actually elicited some useful information — such as how Gordon and Sy had a plan to find Ashton a new friend, and Astera would tell them when it was time to put that plan into action. Like Sy, Helen was frustratingly vague about the exact nature of the mice — "You don't remember some things," was the best explanation Ynez managed to extract.

Then, like a hyperactive child, Helen abruptly tired of the conversation and cried, "Tel! That's not how you act like a dog! You do it this way!" And she dropped to all fours and began scampering around the room, chasing and barking at an ecstatic Timo.

Looking at the two of them and shaking his head, Ghallim mused, "Yes, I 'ave noticed zat we're all missing time. But what we're missing, I cannot tell."

Just as suddenly, Helen popped back up and announced, "Well, I'm tired. I'm going to bed." At complete variance with her words, she ran around the room giving each person an enthusiastic hug.

I clung to her just a little longer. "Helen," I asked worriedly. " _You're_ not lonely, are you?"

She shook out her curls. "Nope! I'm not lonely at all! I have all of you!" Then she wriggled out of my arms and bounced away.

I stared after her in a daze, feeling as if nothing would ever make any sense again. So much of my identity was bound up in helping Astera run the orphanage and care for the children, and now I'd just discovered that at least four of them were much older than I — were ancient and powerful beings, in fact, and had never needed any of my coddling and petting and scolding. I felt very hurt and very foolish, and very resentful.

"Well, if no one needs me anyway," I huffed, "I'm going to study this Aegis diagram." And without waiting for any kind of response, I flounced out of the room too.

* * *

But old habits die hard, and the next morning I was halfway through banging on doors and chivying the children along to class when I remembered that they weren't children and didn't need basic Enochian — certainly not when they could do magic via other means — and that I was treating a group of ancient, powerful, not-entirely-human beings like rebellious human children.

To hide my chagrin, I dragged them all to class anyway.

Jamie, who'd probably been on night shift with Ashton, met us at the entrance to the caves with the information that Astera was busy and wanted Ynez to lecture on Ars Manes in her stead. Normally I'd be only too happy to play the supportive older sister and nod encouragingly at Ynez from the back of the room, but today I just couldn't bear to spend another minute with the children. The mice. The whatever-they-were.

A mad idea had come to me late last night as I pored over the Aegis diagram, and before I could talk myself out of it, I tiptoed out of the classroom when Ynez's back was turned, dashed back to our room to change into my best brown dress, and tore out of the orphanage as fast as I could to visit the little temple of Athena.

Ghallim's living quarters were around back, conveniently shielded from the orphanage by a stand of olive trees. Breathlessly, I rapped hard on his door and interrupted his breakfast. "Ghallim," I wheezed, leaning on the doorframe. "You make jewelry, right? Can I borrow some, please? I promise to return it!"

Completely unfazed to find me on his doorstep begging for a loan of precious magical artifacts, Ghallim courteously invited me in. "Of course," he assured me. "Zey are in ze third drawer, right zere. Zey are unfinished, because I give away all ze finished pieces." Returning to his breakfast, he described the various pieces I lifted out of the drawer in between bites of egg. All of them were made from a mix of silver and pewter, and worked with incredible skill in wildly disparate styles. "Ah, zat necklace," he said, pointing his fork at a particularly gaudy piece. "I modeled eet after a necklace I saw at ze court of ze Queen of France. Very pretty, but very impractical. Eet needs to be repaired after each use." I hastily replaced it in the drawer. And: "Zat pendant was inspired by something I saw on a wealthy man in ze Agora recently." Probably not appropriate for me to wear then. And finally: "Zat set, of course, was inspired by Athena. You see, eet 'as an olive branch and leaf design, because ze olive tree eez sacred to 'er."

"I'd like to borrow those, if I may?"

Ghallim shrugged. "As I said, I give away all ze finished pieces anyway."

As I put on the necklace and earrings, wishing I'd "borrowed" one of Ynez's mirrors on my way over, I wandered around the workshop curiously. While Helen visited regularly, I'd never been that close to Ghallim. All I really knew about him was that he was passionately devoted to Athena, used Artes Temporis and Vis to great effect without realizing that he could, and created marvellous Wonders. Evidence of his artistic skill lay all around the room, in the form of spools of wire messily unwinding themselves all over the workbench, and half-finished jewelry and weaponry and trinkets scattered on the workbench, lying forgotten under the table, and peering over the edges of shelves.

Fascinated, I picked up a broach in the shape of an owl and marvelled at the detail on the feathers. "Ghallim, how do you create Wonders?"

"What do you mean, Wonders?" he asked, busily clearing away the remains of his breakfast.

Right, I needed to phrase my question in his paradigm. "Umm, magical artifacts, like your cloak. Or your spear."

"Ah, zose! I do not create zem, so much as I pray to Athena to 'elp me make zem what _zey_ want to be. Sometimes, she takes interest, because she eez ze goddess of crafts." He pointed at the spear. "Ze spear, you see, wants to _finish_ people. And ze cloak, eet wants to shield and protect. Athena 'elps zem become _more_ of what zey are."

I held up the owl broach. "And zis — this? What does it want to be?"

"Ah, I could not figure out what eet wants to be. Most of zese pieces — " he gestured around his workshop — "I could not understand zem. Now," he said, picking up a bucket, "I need to water my plants. Would you like to accompany me? We can continue to speak of Athena and her glory."

Actually, what I wanted to do was set my mad plan into action, but it didn't seem polite to refuse the man who'd just lent you an entire set of jewelry without even blinking. So I tagged along after Ghallim as he watered the trees and shrubs around the temple, noting that he greeted them like old friends and puzzled over what they wanted to be. Finally he finished his chores and returned to his bench to work on the cypress branch he'd cut from Thanos' tree. It wanted to merge with his spear, he explained. At last I bade him farewell and went on my way.

* * *

At the foot of the slope leading up to the Acropolis, I paused, patting my satchel for reassurance that I hadn't forgotten the Aegis diagram. It was perfectly detailed and exquisitely drawn, documenting the network of leylines that extended throughout the city from the widest channels gushing out of the Node in the Hearth to the most slender tendrils that brushed the inside of the city wall and provided a defense of last resort, from the magical flow rates in each leyline to the exact numbers and locations of the white crystals that sprouted where leylines branched. Spreading out the parchment on a bed in my new library wing, I'd itched to copy it and illuminate it properly in colorful paints.

So why was I here at the bastion of House Bonisagus? Ostensibly I had some questions on the tolerances of the valves located every few feet along the leylines that were supposed to guard against a flood of power like what we'd seen the night of the disaster. If anyone asked, I was going to insist that only the Primus could explain them to my satisfaction, and that the cooperation of House Criamon depended on how he intended to improve his failsafes. That was only a pretext, though. I could just as easily have contacted Irene via the communications stone and asked her to deliver a list of questions to Thoren. It would have saved me a long walk and more-than-probable humiliation if (or, more likely, when) Thoren refused to see me.

Perfectly reasonable. Last night I could have been sleeping, or setting up the new library wing, instead of stalking around the orphanage for hours composing poetry bad enough to make Timo cringe, in order to work an Ars Fati Effect that would make the Primus of House Bonisagus more likely to receive a lowly Adepta.

If I were being honest with myself, I'd admit that my dream-vision of the Bonisagi's' valiant stand against the Plague and the blazing fire elemental had shaken me, and that I needed to see for myself that the Parthenon still stood. No, if I were being _really_ honest with myself, I'd admit that I needed to see for myself that Thoren was unscathed.

Whatever I thought of his methods, whatever my personal opinion of the Obscura, Thoren and his cabal had arrived in the city when I was barely more than a child and I simply couldn't imagine Athens without him. In the five years he'd been here, he'd created massive changes in the very fabric of the city — his influence was here in the way the hordes of visitors, tourists, and refugees of my childhood had diminished to a steady flow of farmers delivering foodstuffs; it was here in the way that the glowing orange Aegis stones and triangles ringed the city; it was here in the way the population went about their lives without much dread of the Plague.

Simply put, just as Tessa had liberated us from starvation, Thoren had taken a massive step towards freeing us from the oppressive fear that had once suffused the air we breathed. If he weren't invincible — well, that would be like learning the pyramids were merely an Ars Mentis illusion or, say, that Herodotus had invented the Battle of Marathon.

To my relief, as I ascended the footpath towards the Parthenon, the Acropolis seemed completely normal. Against the dramatic backdrop of marble columns and Athenian skyline, young Neophytes (would-be mages of the first degree) ran around delivering messages for their superiors, while Initiates (fourth degree, full House members at last) walked by briskly with their arms full of scrolls and books, and Initiates Exempti (just one rank below me) strolled along talking pompously of their latest studies. Would I have been like them, if I hadn't grown up in an orphanage where I was expected to help with chores and corral even younger orphans in addition to studying magic? I dodged a group of Practici who were quizzing each other on the uses of Ars Materiae, and took the long way around the plateau to avoid anyone I knew.

Thanks to my Ars Fati Effect (and a few helpful Initiates), I found the Magister Mundi in his workroom at the back of the Parthenon, alone at his desk and frowning over a stack of reports.

"Ah, Leona," he mumbled without looking up as I hesitated in the doorway, "what is the status of Leyline S12b?"

I actually knew this, thanks to the diagrams and my predawn jaunt to that particular leyline, courtesy of Thanos. "Er," I said, doing my best to sound confident, "it seems to be working, although it looks weaker than usual."

His head jerked up, and he frowned until he identified me. "Adepta Marina Cimon bani Criamon," he said, his tone neutral.

Was he also remembering our last meeting, when I'd basically accused him of gross incompetence? I fought not to cringe. Why had I come? He was a Magister Mundi, for crying out loud! If anyone could defend himself against (dreamed) Plague vine walls and fire elementals, it would be he! Now that I was actually in his presence, I felt very young and very silly.

Like a gentleman, he stood and excavated a chair from under a pile of artifacts, setting it down before his desk. "Please, have a seat. What brings a representative of House Criamon here?" Unlike the last time I'd seen him, his voice was even and formal. Which was the real Thoren — the frustrated, passionate man confronting the collapse of his Aegis, or this self-controlled, expressionless authority figure? Or the humorous, patient newcomer who had braved a gaggle of children to speak to their matron?

Feigning assurance, I smoothed my skirts and sat as gracefully as the etiquette manuals dictated. (Ynez would be proud — well, no. She'd kill me if she knew I were here.) "I've come about the diagram Leona sent over," I said. With surprisingly steady hands, I drew it from my satchel and unfurled it across his desk, weighting down the corners with random artifacts he had scattered about.

Another frown. "Is it not to your satisfaction?"

"Oh, no," I assured him hastily, "the diagram is fine. It's the valves that concern me. Look, I know they're supposed to contain a flood of power like what we had the other night, but I can't see how they're strong enough — "

"No, no," Thoren cut me off, looking interested and engaged for the first time. "They're not meant to stand against the full force of power from the Hearth. Gods above! That would be nigh impossible!" I preened a little — of course he should respect our Hearth! "No, what they're designed to do — where is it — here, do you see this sketch in the corner here?" He pointed to a line drawing I'd thought looked like a geometric, stylized flower. "The valves have layered Artes Essentiae, Materiae, and Vis Effects to _attenuate_ the flow."

I leaned over to study the diagram too. It still looked like a flower to me. "How does the layering work?" I asked curiously.

He pointed to the central circle. "That is the channel through which the power flows." His finger moved to what looked like a ring of petals. "This structure expands and contracts as necessary to change the diameter of the channel — that's Artes Essentiae and Materiae at work — and these and these — " he indicated short lines extending out from the central circle between the petals, as well as a thick band of curlicues that surrounded the petals — "are an Ars Vis Effect."

Belatedly I realized that the curlicues were elegant, interlocking Enochian runes that I'd never seen. "What does it do?"

Before he could explain, Leona and Irene walked in, bickering over how best to repair a weakened Aegis stone. I thought — I _hoped_ — it was only a theoretical exercise. "Magister," Leona said, dropping a stack of papers on the edge of Thoren's desk, "here is the report on the status of the leylines that you asked for."

Without looking up, he replied tersely, "I'm busy with Marina right now. I'll have a look later."

Although he missed the perplexed looks they exchanged, I couldn't help but see the puzzled frown they gave me as they withdrew. I gave them an apologetic shrug, feeling both guilty that I was keeping Thoren from his work, and thrilled that he deemed me worthy of his time.

"So where were we? Ah yes, the Ars Vis Effect." Picking up a quill, Thoren began to sketch animatedly on an empty spot on the parchment. "It transforms Hearth Quintessence into different forms, to reduce the load on the Aegis," he explained. From the pride in his voice, I could guess that he'd designed the system himself. "Part of it goes to power the closing of valve itself, part to fuel the strengthening and instant repairing of the channel. The rest gets burned off, as quickly as possible before it can damage the entire system. But sometimes it can't do that fast enough. As you saw." He arched an eyebrow at me drily.

I couldn't even begin to imagine the raw power and talent it had taken to design and construct the Aegis. Perhaps if I studied for twenty years I could just begin to understand its intricacies. And its creator sat right across the table from me, discussing it with me like an equal!

"It seems like a waste to just burn off the extra power" was what came out of my mouth. Eek. Cringe. Somehow I had a knack for saying exactly the wrong thing.

To my surprise, Thoren didn't take offense. Maybe he was in a relaxed mood from talking about his work, or maybe my Ars Fati Effect was a lot more successful than I'd realized.

"It is," he agreed. "I do have ideas for a system that can transform it into Tass, so we can store it for later use, such as creating Wonders."

"Or maybe some sort of reservoir?" I suggested. "So you can feed it back into the Aegis when Tessa needs to draw more power than usual?"

Thoren's eyes lit up, and he began to twirl the quill in his fingers as he thought out loud. "Hmm, that's not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all. Of course, we'd need to calculate the proper size of the reservoir, and what materials will slow the rate of evaporation, and where we should put it. Huh, or maybe we should have more than one reservoir to improve distribution. Or a large central reservoir and small local reservoirs?" As he mumbled, he began to scribble notes all over the Aegis diagram, in blank spaces and sometimes right across the schematics if they were in the way. "And some way for mages to access the reservoirs so they can convert the Quintessence to Tass if necessary…." I watched him, fascinated. His face was bright with excitement, happy even, and I realized with a start that he could be considered handsome when he wasn't scowling or shouting orders at people. (Which, admittedly, from what I'd seen wasn't all that often. Leylines didn't collapse every night, after all.)

As he lost himself in his creative frenzy, addressing mostly rhetorical questions towards me from time to time, a steady stream of other mages flowed in and out, attempting to bring him reports or call his attention to various weak spots in the Aegis. All of them stared at me sidelong, as if uncertain why I was there and how much they should say in the presence of an outsider, which I was rather fretting over myself. Unperturbed, Thoren ignored all of them, apart from ordering them to leave documents for him or to return later. I did notice that as time went on, Leona and Irene pointedly started to leave the door wide open each time they left, and that they began to return more and more often until at last Irene heaved a long-suffering sigh (I cast a nervous glance in her direction), threw herself into a chair by the door, and rattled a sheaf of papers that she pretended to read while she observed the two of us. That seemed as clear sign as any that I'd outstayed my welcome.

Tentatively I cleared my throat. "Umm, Magister?" No response. "Magister Mundi?" It was as if he'd entirely forgotten my presence.

I leaned across the table and cautiously poked his arm. He froze in the middle of sketching a reservoir, and our gazes caught and held. For a moment, just the briefest moment, we stared at each other, and I thought of the romantic ballads Lil sometimes hid behind _Enochian Runes and Their Usages_. I thought — I thought — I didn't know what I thought.

Irene cleared her throat _very_ loudly.

The moment passed.

Thoren set down his quill and leaned back deliberately in his chair. "Thank you for the idea, Adepta," he said, reverting to formality. "I shall see if it is possible to incorporate it into the Aegis."

I wanted desperately to see him again — beyond the usual, awkward mumbled greetings when our paths crossed at the orphanage or outside Hadrian's Library.

"Can I help you? Will you teach me Ars Vis?" I blurted out.

His eyebrows went way up. "Are you offering to switch Houses?"

Switch Houses? Leave Astera and Ynez and Tel and Ghallim and all the mice? My _home_? Did I have to do that? How could I ever do that?

"I see," he said, reading the shock and horror in my face. "You wish for me to mentor an Adepta from another House when Bonisagus already has more talented students than we have time for."

To that, I had no ready reply. _Verrus mentors Tel_ came to mind, but I doubted Thoren cared much for the practices of House Bjornaer. "I learn fast," I babbled. "I work hard. I'd be helpful on the reservoir project…." After all, it _was_ my idea, even if he were the one who knew how to implement it.

Thoren's expression gave nothing away. Where was the animated man of just a few minutes ago? Under his scrutiny (and Irene's stern gaze), I fought not to squirm. It felt too much like being scolded by Astera. Unbidden, the memory of his first visit to the orphanage, when it took me three tries to raise an Ars Essentiae shield, popped into my mind. Did he remember my clumsiness too? Had my incompetence disgusted him? Was he searching for a kind way to tell me that I lacked the aptitude? "He only shouts at people he considers his equals," Leif had said.

Thoren hadn't shouted at me yet this meeting. Was that a bad sign?

Finally, after much too long, he nodded to himself. "Very well. Write an essay on Ars Vis and deliver it to me tomorrow. _If_ I deem it satisfactory, I will take you on as a student."

"Oh thank you, thank you!" I exclaimed, forgetting all my dignity. Then I hesitated. "An essay on Ars Vis" was really very general. "What particular aspect of Ars Vis? Its history, development, theory, practice…?"

He waved a hand, almost knocking over a stack of scrolls. "That is for you to decide. I look forward to seeing your thought process."

He didn't sound particularly excited by the prospect, I thought, but the dismissal was clear. I was, after all, only an Adepta who had already taken up an hour of the Magister Mundi's time. Picking up my satchel and leaving the Aegis diagram in case he needed the notes he'd scrawled all over it, I retreated towards the door. Just before I shut it behind me (Irene was already striding purposely towards the chair I'd vacated), the same question I'd asked Thanos popped into my mind, and I quickly stuck my head back around the doorframe. "Magister Mundi, why do you care about Athens?"

If he had seemed angry the night of the disaster, it was nothing compared to the fury I saw in his eyes now. "You may write a second essay on the reasons the Primus of House Bonisagus might find it convenient to take up residence in this city," he snapped at me. "Now _go_ , before I change my mind!"

Chastened, trying very hard not to cry from humiliation while Zelators within earshot poked one another and smirked, and Initiates intently feigned deafness, I slunk away from the Parthenon.


	5. Wednesday March 3, 1490

**Wednesday March 3, 1490**

Trudging home from the Acropolis, I couldn't help but notice the tense atmosphere that pervaded the city. Although the bakeries and market stalls were bustling with shoppers, the streets choked by the usual jam of carts and pedestrians, and the taverns and restaurants packed with patrons, I had to dodge more and larger clusters of Athenians. They conversed in hushed whispers and cast nervous glances at the Tower of the Winds, still frozen within its case of blue lightning, and I caught the words "Plague" and "famine" and "failing Aegis" more than once. Only the smallest babies, too young to pick up on their parents' anxiety, were unaffected by the general mood; even the toddlers clung to their mothers' hands and gazed up at the Tower fearfully.

It reminded me of the Athens of my childhood, the Athens ravaged by Plague and famine. Tessa had only just begun to shield the seeds, but rumors of a secure food source spread immediately and refugees flooded into the city, straining already faltering institutions to the breaking point. Famine and disease became such familiar neighbors that Astera even placed wards around the orphanage to barricade us in, although luckily we never came close to starving (personally, I suspected that she'd bargained with Tessa for untainted food in exchange for Hearth Quintessence). For a time, the Forgotten Orphanage had felt like home, sanctuary, and prison all in one. (Sy would have hated it — or maybe he did, and I just didn't remember?)

But then Thoren had led his cabal into the city and built the Obscura, the population had stabilized at last, and with the construction of the Aegis, it felt as if he'd extended the safety of the orphanage all the way to the city wall. Athenians no longer lived in fear. We no longer eyed one another's market baskets covetously, or mobbed anyone who so much as sneezed in public. We conversed easily and laughed in the Agora, and shook hands in greeting. We even recovered the energy for intellectual and artistic pursuits. For five years, we'd lived in a bubble of paradise amid a collapsing world.

But now — now the time of reckoning had arrived.

* * *

As soon as I got home, I yanked an entire stack of books out of the new library wing and lugged them to our bedroom, scattering them all over my bed and sprawling out comfortably across the covers to read everything I could about Ars Vis — and House Bonisagus. I was scribbling notes furiously when Ynez trudged in. Slowly and stiffly, she lay down in her bed and drew the blanket over her head.

"Marina," she said after a moment. "Is it all right if I have the room to myself for a little while? I'd like to speak with my guardian angel, if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course!" I frantically started gathering up parchment and books. "I'll be out of here in a sec. I'm just working on these essays."

"Thanks Marina," she murmured. "I didn't assign anything, y'know, and Astera won't mind if you turn in homework late. She's really busy with Ashton."

I hesitated. How much should I tell her? I hated to lie — almost as much as she hated Thoren. In the end, I settled for, "Erm, I know, but they're due tomorrow anyway." Then I hastily added, hoping to distract her, "Go talk to your angel. I'm happy to work in one of the spare rooms."

My distraction failed. "Why are they due tomorrow anyway? She really won't mind."

"Umm…." Should I pretend I hadn't heard her and beat a hasty retreat?

"Marina?" Ynez's voice sharpened, and she folded down the blanket to stare at me. "What are you working on?"

I squirmed uncomfortably and just knew that guilt was blazoned all over my face. Not looking at her, I muttered, "I'm learning Ars Vis."

"From Astera?"

Here it came. "No…."

"From _whom_?"

The only solution was to brazen it out. "Who's the archmage of Ars Vis in this city?"

Her face froze in an expression of shock and horror, like the shock and horror that might have been on Lot's wife's face (I did occasionally listen when Ynez told Biblical tales). This conversation was going exactly as I'd expected. Which was why I hadn't wanted to have it at all. "You're learning Ars Vis from _Magister Thoren_?" she squeaked.

When in doubt, counterattack? I protested, "He's really good at it! And anyway, he might not take me as a student. It depends on these essays."

"Yes, but you _want_ to study with _Magister Thoren_?" Heylel Teomim bani Solificati's betrayal was nothing next to mine. Propping herself up on her pillow, she scrutinized my face, as if hoping desperately that it was another of Sy's pranks. "Marina," she said slowly and incredulously, "are you wearing _jewelry_?"

"Ummm, yes?" I tried the distraction tactic again. "Ghallim has a bunch just lying around. You could borrow some too."

It hadn't worked before, and it didn't work now. Ynez was still staring at me as if I'd confessed that I'd been a spy for the Order of Reason all along, and the shock troops were coming _right now_ to arrest, torture, and execute her. "Marina, no! Are you — do you — do you _like_ him?" My blush and silence were answer enough. "But Marina, it's _Thoren_!" She said his name as one would say "cursed, murderous, monstrous Plague spirit."

I protested, "We haven't given him a chance! He's really not so bad…." But my voice trailed off as I remembered exactly whom I was talking to and why she hated him so passionately.

" _Thoren_?"

In a tiny voice, just like the one she'd used when she learned Tel had spent the night with Verrus, I added, "He's kind of good looking?"

" _THOREN_?"

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. What was there to say? Ynez would be trying to process her old pain and my fresh betrayal. I knew — had always known — how much Ynez hated the man, and I desperately wanted to avoid hurting her. But at the same time, I was certain that Thoren was more than a butcher of refugees, and, if I were being honest with myself, I really wanted to spend more time with him.

Finally, Ynez asked in a more normal tone, "You were properly chaperoned, I hope?" and at, my vehement nod, persisted, "Are his intentions honorable?"

His intentions? I hadn't even thought that far! I hadn't thought beyond how I might dazzle him with my brilliant essays, or when I might see him again. Without disapproving Bonisagi around, preferably. Which, as Ynez's question had pointed out, would be a problem.

"Um, yes?" I answered at last. Surely my status as a mage would protect me from the rumors of spiteful, whispering old crones.

She sighed heavily and lay back down. "All right, if you must. But if he hurts you, I'll kill him." And she turned her face to the wall and pulled the blanket clear over her head.

I took that as my sign to tiptoe out to the new library wing.

* * *

Although it took the rest of the afternoon, I wrote Thoren his two essays. The first was a scholarly work on historical usages of Ars Vis in House Criamon. The second expounded upon the cultural heritage of Athens, which provided a rich and inspirational environment for House Bonisagus; upon the relatively stable food source, which could sustain a cabal of mages; upon the potent Hearth, which generated energy for magical experiments. Then, at the end, just to spite him, I added the speculation that the Magister Mundi was not immune to affairs of the heart, and that he had come to Athens for the love of a girl he once knew. To conclude, I quoted several lines of courtly love from one of Lil's poets, Bernard de Ventadorn.

That would teach Thoren to shout at me in front of other mages!

Before I could change my mind and scrape off the ink, I tidily rolled up and sealed the two sheets of parchment, then handed them to Jamie to deliver to the Acropolis.

* * *

That evening, we endured a strained dinner during which Ynez and I failed to smile even at Tel's antics (he crawled around on all fours, barked at Helen, and slopped up his meal from a bowl on the floor) and Ghallim's (most likely embellished) tales of his chivalric fights on behalf of a beautiful French noblewoman. As we poked listlessly at the last of the food, a piercing scream rang out from Ashton's sickroom. Led by Ghallim, we tore out of the dining room to find Gordon, Jamie, Sy, and Helen tumbling out of the caves, faces white and pinched and utterly unchildlike in their grief and worry.

"Tel!" Gordon caught his arm and started dragging him in the opposite direction. "We need your help with Ashton!"

"But Ashton is that way," Tel protested.

"It's for a plan to _help_ Ashton." And they surrounded Tel and hustled him away.

Ghallim and Ynez hadn't stopped running, so I dashed after them into the sickroom to find Ashton awake at last, panting and fighting for breath — breath that instantly crystallized in the icy air around him. His entire bed was surrounded by a thick blanket of snow. Astera knelt on the bed beside him, struggling to infuse Quintessence into him, while Lil hovered helplessly, clinging to Ashton's hand and begging him to be all right, be all right, please be all right.

"Ynez!" Astera cried when she saw us. "Help me with Ars Manes!" Then, to Lil, "Go help the others!"

Ynez immediately began laying out a ring of candles all around the bed, and I hurried to light them, wishing fervently that I could use any Ars Manes, or even Ars Animae. If only Tel and I could actually take advantage of sharing an avatar! Then I could tap into his Ars Animae knowledge and do _something_ besides light candles! Ynez solved my problem. "Marina," she exclaimed, "the cold is good for him. Can you make it colder?"

Now _that_ was something I did know how to do. In fact, that was something I was very very good at! Heedless of the snow drifting onto and weighing down my skirts, I began to carve an intricate, detailed snowflake that would expel all warmth from the room. As the temperature plummeted, snow swirled through the air, coating all the desks and chairs and piling up in mounds in the corners. I pushed it away from Ynez's candles, and they alone burned in a snow-free circle around Ashton's bed.

I hadn't even noticed I was shivering from the cold and the exertion, but Ghallim dropped a blanket around my shoulders and placed a hand briefly on my head, as if in benediction, before he knelt just outside the ring of candles and appealed to Athena for clarity. His prayer formed an almost hypnotic counterpoint to Astera's Enochian chants. Blinding spots of light flashed around the room — bright reflections from Ynez's mirror — and danced frenetically across the icicles now growing from the ceiling. Caught in the swirl of snow and chanting and prayer and play of light, I fell into a deep trance.

* * *

Hours later, a light shake roused me, and I looked up into Astera's tired, compassionate face. "Marina," she said gently. "It's cold enough for Ashton. The others should be back by now — will you go check on them?"

"Yes, of course." With an effort, I staggered to my feet, pushed through waist-high snow, and stumbled out into the dark yard. The dormitory remained silent and empty. Where could the children be at this hour of the night? Before I could start to panic, Lil emerged from the shadows at the edge of the orphanage, followed by —

I let out a strangled shriek as I recognized the shaved head and tattooed skull of the Reds. One of the more charming aspects of Athens' return to normalcy was the revival of gang warfare (something else for which to thank Thoren?). The city had all too many groups of brutish, semi-employed thugs, but by far the most vicious were the anarchist Reds and the nominally Christian Blues, who were associated with the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea (and possibly its rabidly fanatic priest, Father Emmanuel of the Celestial Chorus, although no one had succeeded in pinning anything specific on him yet). The Reds were known to all by their shaved heads with grinning skulls tattooed on the crowns of their heads — you'd think that a picture of a skull on an actual skull would look ridiculous, but instead it evoked rumors of brutal executions and mutilated corpses and provoked shear petrification throughout the city (another reason Astera tried to keep us close). Which just went to show that the symbol itself was less important than the associated concept. But philosophical diversions weren't comforting when there was a Red standing right in front of me!

"Lil, get away from him!" I leaped forward and dragged her away, startling _her_ into a little shriek.

"Hey, hey, Marina, calm down! It's me!" The Red waved his hands in a hilariously non-confrontational manner. No self-respecting gang member would ever act that way (I thought). Upon closer inspection, he looked an awful lot like — a scarier version of _Tel_?

"Telemachus bani Criamon!" I snapped. "What in the world are you doing? What happened to your _hair_? Why did you get a _tattoo_?"

Wriggling free of my grasp, Lil explained, "It's to help Ashton" just as Tel said appeasingly, "It's not a _real_ tattoo, I think." A pause. "Right, Lil? It's just Ars Animae, right? It's not permanent, right?" And he looked a little alarmed at the prospect.

Ignoring him, Lil addressed me. "Marina, we could use your help. Can you please get Ghallim and Ynez too?"

"Our help? What are you _doing_? And where's everyone else? You're not supposed to be out after dark! It's dangerous out there!"

Lil rolled her eyes while Tel assured me earnestly, "Oh, believe me, I've seen what they can do, and you do _not_ need to worry about them. Gordon and Jamie and Sy and Helen...Marina, I saw Helen _love_ someone to death."

Why Tel thought that would be reassuring, I had no earthly clue. " _Helen did what_?"

"Let's just get the others, Marina," Lil suggested, tugging at my hand. "Tel, maybe you should stay out here so you don't scare Astera."

"Wait, Lil, I thought you said Astera knew about the plan…."

When Lil and I led Ghallim and Ynez into the yard, we found Tel skulking by the ruins of the old library, trying to escape his parents. They'd cornered him against a crumbling wall, and Lily kept sniffing his clothing disapprovingly while Gus alternately growled and barked at him. I had no doubt that if they could speak, Tel would be listening to the lecture of his life. On the other hand, Timo, like a true brother, bounded about Tel, yipping happily and seeming to approve of this new look.

" _Tel_!" screamed Ynez. "Is that you? Oh my God! Your hair! The tattoo!" She looked absolutely stunned by his transformation from chiseled Hercules to menacing thug.

Lil explained, "It's okay, Ynez, it's just an Ars Animae Effect. It'll fade in a few hours."

Between her and Tel, they managed to convey what the mice had been up to: inciting gang warfare, apparently, with Tel as the decoy. Earlier, after Ashton screamed, Helen had helped Tel tap into his Ars Animae abilities to alter his appearance, and Gordon had used Ars Mentis to teach him how to act like a proper Red. Then they led him across town to where the Blues were meeting in a courtyard next to the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea. Pausing in a narrow corridor leading into the courtyard, Gordon gave Tel his final instructions: "We need you to act sneaky _poorly_. You need to make them think you're a Red spy so you can lead them back through here. But we only want _some_ of them." When Tel asked nervously what exactly the mice wanted with _any_ of the gang members, Gordon said only, "Just remember, these aren't _good_ people." And Tel looked around to see Sy clambering up a wall, Helen pulling syringes out of her pocket, and Jamie rapping on the wall as if testing its structural soundness.

As dusk fell, Jamie performed one last check and sent Tel in. ("I did some acrobatics," Tel said proudly, demonstrating a tuck and roll right there in the yard, and scattering the dogs.) Skulking behind some bushes, he peered a little too obviously at the Blues as they trained. Naturally, they took offense at the Red spy, and a group of four thugs armed with swords and bows thundered at him. Following Gordon's instructions, Tel whirled and pelted back along the narrow corridor.

The Blues never stood a chance. With perfect synergy among the mice, Sy cast bricks from the roof that fell just behind Tel and immediately vaporized into dust that blinded the gang members, Gordon picked off three of them with blow darts, and Helen snuck up behind the last to hug him — except her hug crushed his ribs and stopped his heart. ("That's what I meant when I said Helen loved someone a little too much," Tel clarified for my benefit. Ghallim shook himself a little uncomfortably, perhaps remembering all the times Helen had hugged _him_.) Then, while Lil checked the other three to make sure the poison had knocked them unconscious, Jamie smashed a glass vial on the ground. Carefully, he positioned one of the shards so the label — which featured a gold leaf and a brown snake — would be visible.

"They'll be out for five minutes," Lil reported.

"The next patrol will be here in eight," Jamie said.

Gordon turned to Tel. "The meeting point is northwest of here. It's an apothecary marked with a gold leaf and brown snake. Get the others and meet us there."

Starting to come out of his shock, Tel protested, "You didn't have to kill them! Are you _sure_ Astera approves?"

Gordon nodded firmly. "We only killed one of them." He gave Helen a hard look, but she shrugged in an unrepentant way. "We told you already, these aren't nice people, Tel."

"Come on, Tel," Lil said soothingly, and led him away from the bodies and the shattered vial back to the orphanage.

Where they now wanted to recruit us to "help" with the next stage of their benighted plan. I exchanged a very dubious look with Ynez. "Accessory to murder" wasn't exactly on my list of life goals. "What _exactly_ do you want us to help with?" I asked Lil warily.

Like all the mice, she kept her explanation vague. "Jamie figured out that the Reds meet every week at the apothecary an hour and half before midnight. Gordon hopes you'll come to make sure things don't get too out of hand."

Ghallim eyed her skeptically. "Too out of 'and, you say?"

To her credit, Lil couldn't meet his eyes and instead mumbled something at the grass about how Gordon had a plan, a good plan, and they could really use our help.

Ynez drew herself up and radiated intensity. "You're going to have to give us more information than that, young lady. _What is the plan and what does it have to do with Ashton_?"

After some disconcerted squirming, Lil confessed that the mice had to do things together, or they'd get lonely, like Ashton, and develop "problems." (After experiencing that snowstorm in his sickroom, I'd say he had problems!) The mice had learned that the mage who ran the apothecary, Vanessa bani Bjornaer, had been abusing her young son, Adonis. "Anyone who is put upon by adults is a mouse," Lil explained earnestly, "and the mice have to help him. Plus Ashton needs a friend."

"Ashton eez older zan any of us imagined," Ghallim murmured. "I sensed zat ze cold comes from an Ars Temporis Effect — eet eez as if a shell zat contained ze past 'as cracked, and now ze past eez seeping into ze present."

Meanwhile, I was remembering what Astera, Leona, and others had said (mostly in hushed, disapproving voices during conversations that abruptly cut off when any children approached) about Vanessa bani Bjornaer. Either an Adepta or Adepta Maior, she was rumored to incite gang warfare for her own ends. Highly gifted at Ars Animae, as one would expect for House Bjornaer, she'd also been accused of performing wildly unethical experiments on corpses. Which, come to think of it, explained why she wanted to incite gang warfare in the first place. House Bjornaer, unfortunately, wasn't a proponent of internal policing, and so Vanessa was left to her own devices as long as she didn't taint the Tower of the Winds with her activities. Needless to say, neither House Criamon nor House Bonisagus approved, but we didn't have jurisdiction.

"Uh, wait a minute, Lil," I interrupted. "Just so we're clear — now we're tangling with the Reds, the Blues, _and_ a crazed Bjornaer Ars Animae mage?"

"Oh no!" Ynez must have heard the same rumors I had. "Vanessa is _that_ one?"

With a flash of spirit, Lil lifted her chin defiantly. "You don't have to help if you're scared. The mice will be fine without you. Gordon just thought — well, never mind. We can do it ourselves." Whirling, she started to stomp out of Astera's warded boundary.

Ghallim darted forward and caught her arm. "Just a moment, young lady. We 'aven't said we wouldn't go."

Sulkily, she shook him off but turned back to regard us resentfully. "Well, you have under an hour to get in position, so you'd better decide fast."

Lil could do Awakened magic — I'd _seen_ her do Awakened magic — so she was entirely human, right? Was that why Gordon had sent her back to the orphanage — for her own safety?

"Lil, if we go, will we need to kill anyone?" Ynez asked her.

She looked genuinely shocked. "No! Of course not! Gordon would never ask you to do that! That's not the plan at all! They just want to sneak in, rescue Adonis, and sneak back out. But all of you are so powerful, we thought you could help just in case something doesn't go perfectly smoothly."

Ynez and I came to a decision at the same time. "We'll go," we told Lil.

Ghallim joked half-heartedly, "I want to be paid for my services." But it wasn't a very good joke, and none of us laughed.

While Tel, Ynez, and Ghallim convinced Lil that Astera really needed help caring for Ashton so she'd be most useful back at the orphanage, I picked up Timo and deposited him in front of his parents. "Timo, I want you to stay here. Gus, Lily, whatever you do, _don't_ let him follow us." They stared at me, un-doglike intelligence in their eyes, and Lily gave a regal nod.

* * *

Remembering how well my Ars Fati Effect had worked on Thoren, I spent the entirety of our walk to Vanessa's apothecary composing love poetry to guarantee the success of the mice's plan to extract Adonis and prevent his mother from following them. It probably wasn't as good as the ballads Ghallim had heard in the court of the Queen of France, because I caught him wincing at some of the rhymes, but tears came to Ynez's eyes as she listened and cast furtive glances at Tel's back.

When we arrived at the apothecary, which unsurprisingly was located in a rather seedy part of Athens, we found Sy veiling the other mice with Ars Manes. "We'll go in this side," Gordon whispered to us. "Can you guard the other side? There are a bunch of windows so you can see inside. After we exit with Adonis, give us maybe ten, fifteen minutes to make sure no one follows, and then you can leave too."

"Zat eez acceptable," Ghallim answered for us. Then distant voices caught his attention. "Incoming," he warned, and quickly guided us into the shelter of a windowless wall. Peering nervously back around the corner, I saw a band of perhaps ten Blues swaggering down the center of the street, cursing loudly and checking the sign over each shop. As they drew closer to our block, Gordon began to dart from shadow to shadow, tossing rocks at the gang members to slow their advance. I thought it was a subtle manipulation of some sort (Ars Mentis, perhaps) but was too terrified to study it properly. All around us, the denizens of the quarter began to slam shut doors and shutters, and I heard bolts sliding into place. Each thump felt like a thud of my heart.

Even though I knew he couldn't hear me, I whispered, "Gordon, be careful."

While I was petrified, Ghallim was in his element. Flipping up his Wonder cloak, he checked his spear and calmly advised us, "I suggest you find some way to 'ide."

"No problem," Tel said cheerily. And he ran straight up the side of the building next door and vanished into the shadows on the roof. Following his progress with an awed expression, Ynez gave a little sigh. (Maybe I should write down some of my love poems for her, I thought.)

But more urgently, what to carve for my Ars Essentiae Focus? Preferably something invisible, or at least inconspicuous. A fly? A cockroach? A mouse? Right — a mouse. Mice were great at hiding and scampering to safety. I whittled a little mouse, turned Ynez and me invisible, and moved into position by the windows Gordon had indicated.

Heart pounding even though I knew no one could see us, I crawled up to one of them and slowly, slowly raised my head over the sill. Vanessa and four Reds stood in front of her counter, negotiating over something on the floor. Barely breathing, I straightened just a hair more until I could see what it was. Immediately I wished I hadn't. Five Blues lay in a pool of slowly spreading blood. Given the slashes that gaped across their throats and their blank, staring eyes and the pallor of their skin, all of them were very very dead. Especially the ones that had been dismembered. I whimpered — or maybe it was Ynez. I couldn't tell through the drumbeat in my ears.

Vanessa was prodding at the bodies with a long stick. In a clear, disdainful voice, she snapped at the Reds, "I _told_ you, the serum needs to be applied _seconds_ after death. These three bodies are useless. I'll take these two."

If the Reds hadn't been quaking so hard, they might have protested, but instead their leader merely swallowed hard and nodded. "Deal," he said, in a voice full of bravado. I'd never thought I'd empathize with gang members, but I felt a rush of camaraderie with all of them. Including the dead ones. Whatever Vanessa was doing here, it was a terrifying abomination against humanity and nature.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I heard Ynez whisper. Surreptitiously she slid a mirror out of her pocket and began murmuring into it, "Oh my Lord, let me summon all of their Greeds, that they may confront them." Power started to build around her.

I was still frozen in place, staring into the apothecary because I was too terrified even to close my eyes, and so I was a captive witness to what happened next. A sharp dagger flashed in the candlelight. Vanessa expertly hacked an arm off one of the Blues she'd deemed acceptable and, holding it like a loaf of bread, climbed a stepladder to a large glass jar that held pride of place on the top shelf. Dark... _things_ oozed around the bottom, struggling to crawl up the slick sides and splatting back into the seething mess. Vanessa dropped the severed arm into the jar, where it was immediately _coated_ with a thick swarm of monstrous leeches that began to — don't look, don't look, don't look. Almost instantly the arm shrivelled and turned gray.

But Vanessa wasn't finished. Using a long wooden claw, she reached into the bottom of the terrarium and poked around until she extracted a particularly large leech, engorged to bursting with fresh blood, and plopped it into a little glass jar. She capped quickly it before the leech could leap out, and descended the stepladder to hand it to the Red leader. "As always, let it drink blood for one hour, no more or you will die. Then you will be miserable for one day. You will tell me and you will tell yourself that you're strong, that you'll be fine — but it will be a lie. You will be miserable for one day. And then you will have the strength of several horses for one week."

The Blues' shouting was getting louder. Gordon's Ars Mentis Effect had run out.

"There!" I heard. "There it is!"

I barely had time to throw up an Ars Essentiae barrier around Ynez and me before the Blues exploded through the door. At the sight of their dismembered brethren and the terrarium of leeches, they stopped short.

Vanessa betrayed not a whit of fear for her own safety, instead shouting at the Reds, "You _led_ them here? I told you that I did not want your personal affairs interfering with my business!"

The Reds were falling over themselves swearing that they hadn't betrayed her, even inadvertently.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!" the Blues yelled in unison. Three of them charged the Reds and Vanessa with swords, while the rest began to spread out around the building with drawn bows, some of them approaching the side where the mice were waiting, the rest running towards Ghallim, Ynez, and me. Whimpering under my breath, I cowered by the window, clinging to my Ars Essentiae shield and pressing myself against the wall as if I could meld right into it.

"Let them confront and vanquish their Greeds," Ynez concluded her ritual, unleashing a horde of greed spirits that flew in all directions. As they began to possess the gang members, the combatants' fear evaporated and the fight became more and more vicious. Blues and Reds hacked furiously at one another with swords and daggers, and Blue archers loosed arrow after arrow into the melee, heedless of whether they struck friend or foe. Screams of agony and shouts of fury rent the night.

Then a greed spirit possessed Ghallim, removing all his inhibitions to kill and tapping directly into his suppressed rage. With a shout of "In Athena's name!" he charged two archers whose bows, he told us later, were of Order of Reason design, and impaled one of them on his spear — the newly redesigned spear that incorporated Thanos' cypress branch. Necrosis immediately began to spread outward from the wound, eating away flesh as rapidly as the leeches had drained blood from the arm.

An arrow from the rooftop where Tel was hiding barely missed the other archer and plunged into the ground beside him. The Blue raised his own bow and shot Ghallim in the shoulder, but before he could follow up with a second arrow, Ghallim had flown up to him and stabbed him through the side.

In the confusion, Vanessa climbed the stepladder again to pick up the terrarium. "I refuse to be undone by Sleeper hooligans," she bit out icily. "All of you can rot in Hell!" And she raised the jar over her head and smashed it with all her might on the floor.

Leeches sprayed away from her, guided towards gang members by the greed spirits. While men screamed and flailed at leeches, Vanessa transformed into her Heartbeast, a fantastically beautiful moth with a six-foot wingspan, and flew up into the second floor.

On the other side of the room, the mice had entered and were creeping down through a trapdoor. I hastily threw up a shield around them while Ynez strengthened our barrier. Unfortunately, the leeches were attracted to magic, and a group split off from the rest and oozed purposefully and unnaturally swiftly in our direction. Tel shot one of them, but the rest swarmed onwards relentlessly and my shield wasn't made to defend against life forms.

Well, even if using magic would attract more leeches, we were going to be very dead very soon if we didn't destroy these. "Fireball," I whispered to Ynez. With no finesse whatsoever, I hacked a piece of wood into a rough flame shape and together we flung a gigantic ball of flame straight into the mass of leeches. With horrible twitching and writhing, they lit up and sizzled out of existence. But we had miscalculated the angle slightly, and the edge of the fireball caught on the edge of my shield and rebounded back onto us, scorching our hair and blistering our skin, just like the fire elemental had in my nightmare. Ynez, bearing the brunt of the explosion, collapsed on the ground while I beat at her hair and dress with my bare hands, trying to put out the fire.

Despite all that, we'd missed a few leeches.

Tel rapidly shot two and leaped down from the roof to land beside us in a crouch. "Are you all right?" he exclaimed. His query turned into a yelp as another leech launched itself at his neck and bit him savagely. I used Ars Essentiae to flatten it, but the final one catapulted onto Ynez's throat and latched on, sucking down her life's blood. She screamed, a horrible, gurgling, dying scream that echoed off the buildings.

Ghallim suddenly materialized by our side, smashing the leech and rubbing a foul-smelling poultice all over her neck and chest. While he was bent over her, an arrow took him from behind, and he toppled over onto the ground with a grunt.

"There! She's escaping!" Tel shouted, pointing wildly at the second-floor window. The moth sailed through it and began to soar away. Nocking an arrow with incredible speed, he shot at her and grazed her wing, but she ignored the wound and flapped on.

Scared, angry, wanting desperately to get everyone home safely, Tel gave a shudder and turned into a massive eagle. Blinking in surprise, he tilted his head and screeched at me in wordless appeal. I petted his head tentatively, hoping he wouldn't savage me with his claws, and tried to reassure him. Then he launched himself into the air and soared after Vanessa.

Meanwhile, the Red leader was stepping over corpses to pick up the little jar Vanessa had handed him earlier. "Oh no, you don't!" cried Ynez hoarsely. "Kill him!" she commanded wildly, and a soundless roar concussed the air as all the greed spirits descended upon him and devoured him down to the last bit of flesh and bone.

Ynez collapsed again, and all the spirits disappeared.

Breathing unevenly, I forced myself to straighten and look around carefully. Vanessa and Tel had vanished entirely; the mice were nowhere in sight. I hoped we'd given Gordon all the backup he needed, because we were certainly going to be out of commission for a while. At least we'd fared marginally better than the gang members: All the Reds were dead and the last three surviving Blues were fleeing in all directions. Everything was quiet in and around the apothecary — except for the little _slurping_ sounds as the leeches swarmed over the fresh bodies and began to drain them. Arms and legs shrivelled into gray husks and crumbled to dust right before my eyes.

I wanted nothing more than to flee home. Athens burning with Plague fires was nothing compared to this nightmare. At least that was only a dream, and I'd known it was only a dream even through the terror. But this — this was _real_. Too real. I wasn't going to wake in my bed. Oh gods, the _way_ those sightless eyeballs stared at the ceiling…. I wanted Astera, I wanted protection, I wanted someone to hold me and rock me and comfort me.

But I was eighteen and a full-fledged mage, and for the same reason I'd had to investigate the narcissus, I had to deal with these magical monstrosities.

A rustle came from behind me. Ghallim had rearranged his twisted limbs into a more natural position and was mouthing prayers to accelerate his healing. Ynez was lying on her back like Helen's rag doll, staring glassily up at the stars and breathing slowly in and out. Ghallim had saved her life with Ars Temporis, but only just.

I brushed her shoulder with my fingertips. "Ynez," I said softly. She looked at me blankly through glazed eyes. "Ynez, do you still have the communications stone? The one Irene gave you?"

"Bag," she whispered, barely moving her lips. "Here. Why?"

"There are still a _lot_ of leeches in the apothecary and they're — " I couldn't bring myself describe it, and Ynez probably didn't need to hear it. "None of us can do any more magic tonight, and we can't just leave them to — well. We need help."

Pain etched in every single motion, she slowly and clumsily activated the stone. A cacophony of harrassed, anxious voices came through it. "Ynez, what is it?" Irene demanded over the background chatter.

"We need to talk to Thoren!" I said.

"The Magister Mundi is busy," Irene began at the same time Ynez protested weakly, "Why do we need Magister _Thoren_?"

"We're at Vanessa bani Bjornaer's apothecary — " I continued.

"We heard rumors of gang warfare — " Ynez murmured, probably thinking we needed a cover story. Kidnapping, even for a good cause, wasn't something we should admit to another House.

"And there are a _lot_ of monster leeches here!" I finished. "They're eating all the bodies!"

"Why don't you take care of it yourselves?"

"Because we're all hurt! Ynez nearly died!"

"The Aegis is collapsing. We don't have time to deal with your problems. Try House Bjornaer," Irene told us crisply.

"They're all frozen! And it was a House Bjornaer mage who caused the problem in the first place!" I screeched.

At the same time, Ynez said indignantly, "There is no one else. Do you think we'd come to _you_ if there were anyone else who could help?"

Just for good measure, I pointed out, "It's going to be your problem too very soon! Do you want Athens to be overrun by giant, blood-sucking, _monster leeches_? Just get Thoren!"

Irene gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm certainly not going to bother the Magister Mundi with trivial matters."

Ynez cut in. "We don't need Magister Thoren, Irene," she whispered. "We just need someone who can deal with the leeches. Please."

Something in her voice — perhaps the way she sounded as if she were drawing her last breath — conveyed the gravity of the situation to Irene at last. "Fine, where are you? I'll send an Adeptus."

"At the apothecary with the gold leaf and the brown snake," I snapped, irked by her attitude. Equally annoyed, Ynez cut off the communications link without thanking her or even saying goodbye.

As we waited and waited and waited for the promised Adeptus, and Ghallim and Ynez lapsed in and out of consciousness, I noticed that the leeches were multiplying. At first I thought I was hallucinating, but no — the mound was actually growing. Drawing on the last of my strength, I erected a containment barrier around the apothecary and slumped to the ground, clinging to the Ars Essentiae Effect and willing help to come before I passed out. By the time a dour, middle-aged mage arrived — by the entirely mundane means of _jogging_ — I felt ready to die. In fact, I wasn't positive that I _wasn't_ dying, and I'd have been all too happy to take him with me, especially after he sniffed disdainfully when I asked why in the names of all the gods he hadn't sped himself up. Apparently House Bonisagus disapproved of vulgar magic except in dire need — and dying Criamoni mages didn't count.

But I forgave him his arrogance because he'd brought a response from Thoren in the form of a communications stone he tossed to me before turning to chant over the leeches. I really didn't have the energy for it, but I could not, could not have this conversation in front of Ynez. Heedless of dignity, I crawled on all fours around the corner, propped myself against someone's doorstep, and activated the stone.

A vision formed on its surface, showing Thoren at a carved wooden conference table, conversing with senior Bonisagi. This was apparently fancier than the stone Irene had given Ynez, which transmitted only sounds. To my surprise, I had just enough energy left to care about my appearance. Luckily, Thoren had activated his stone without glancing at it. "Yes, Georgios?" his curt voice barked. "Do you have Marina?"

I cleared my throat and smoothed back my hair as best I could. "Magister Mundi, this is Marina," I said in as even and mature a tone as I could manage (which meant that I sounded marginally less exhausted than I felt). "On behalf of House Criamon, I would like to thank you for your assistance."

There was a brief, stunned silence, followed by a roar of laughter. Thoren's face filled the stone. "Adepta," he gasped, "you choose the most — entertaining — times for formality!"

And here I'd thought this was the most _appropriate_ time for formality, when our Houses were cooperating on a magical operation.

I caught snatches of conversation in the background — someone complaining about the Criamoni tendency to lose our heads, Irene inquiring about the cleanup. Thoren turned away briefly, and I got a good look at his golden hair. "I want to talk to Marina in private," I heard him say, still chuckling. "Leona, clear everyone out." After a moment, the babble of voices died away, and he finally stopped laughing. "Oh, Odin, I needed that. So, Marina, after screeching like a banshee at one of my lieutenants while requesting a favor, not to mention making a most intimate suggestion about my motivations for coming to Athens while asking for my tutelage, _now_ you revert to formality?"

A most intimate suggestion? I frowned. So much had happened today that I couldn't even recall what I'd had for dinner, but I was pretty sure I'd remember if I had — oh. The second essay. The one where I'd baited him with a love poem. In a small voice, I said meekly, "I apologize if it were inappropriate, Magister."

"It was," he agreed. "But the speed and quality of your writing are impressive, and I _have_ seen you perform magic. I will accept you as a student."

I caught my breath. "Oh, thank you, Magister! Thank you!"

He cut me off. "Come to my workroom at the first crack of dawn, for twenty-five minutes, every other morning. I will see you tomorrow. Now tell Georgios that I expect a full report as soon as he returns. Oh, and keep the stone in case you need to contact me. I can't have you terrorizing my Adepti Maiores." And, rumbling with laughter, he broke the connection.

* * *

The less said about that cleanup operation, the better. Suffice it to say that it was gruesome and bloody, and even Adeptus Georgios looked shaken by the end of it. When Ynez, Ghallim, and I finally dragged ourselves back to the orphanage, we found Tel (in his normal human form) hunched over in the yard, cradling a terrible wound in his side. Lily and Gus were licking it frantically, trying to staunch the blood flow. Timo whined and nuzzled his brother. When he saw us, Tel stood slowly, tottering a little. His parents braced his legs when they buckled.

I was too tired even to panic. "What happened?" I asked dully, moving to his side to help prop him up. Ghallim silently supported Tel from the other side.

"Vanessa," Tel replied in the same dead tone. "She escaped."

"That's all right," I sighed. "As long as she doesn't know who we are."

An eternity later, the four of us managed to hobble the length of the yard into the caves. There we found Astera, Ashton, who looked even closer to death than Tel or Ynez, and a beautiful boy of eight or nine. The rest of the mice were keeping a respectful distance from them. I scanned the children numbly — all of them had made it back safely.

"Adonis," Astera was saying, holding the little boy's hands in her own. "I can keep you safe and never let harm come to you, but only if you understand what you have to do to help Ashton." I could feel the Ars Mentis Effect she cast, although I didn't know what she was showing him.

The child looked scared but replied bravely, "I'll do it."


	6. Technically Thursday March 4, 1490

**Technically Thursday March 4, 1490**

At the little boy's words, Astera sagged with relief. " _Thank you_ , Adonis," she breathed. She closed her eyes for a moment and then, opening them again, briskly gave Gordon orders on what to prepare for the ritual. Turning to us, she seemed to see us for the first time. "Children, what _happened_ to you? Gordon, there wasn't supposed to be violence!"

Hurrying around the room collecting artifacts, the leader of the mice only shrugged and mumbled something about things not entirely going to plan. It was Jamie who said guiltily, "They were only there to mitigate the damage, in case something went wrong. We didn't expect a massacre." Something about his speech sounded different, I thought. Maybe the diction was too mature? But I was too tired to lay a finger on it.

Astera opened her mouth, seemed to decide she didn't want to know any more, shut it again, and finally ordered, "Lil, heal them."

Obediently, Lil moved to Ghallim's side. Together they crushed herbs into a poultice that they smeared liberally over his wounds, Ghallim wincing a little as his flesh began to mend itself. Curious, Lil inquired about the herbs, and he, perhaps needing a distraction from the pain, explained at length about marrowshade, its properties, and its tendency to grow around battlefields — especially inside corpses. I really hadn't needed to know that, but Lil suggested gathering more sometime. Ugh. After they'd seen to his wounds, the two of them moved on to Ynez.

Too slow still — Ashton was slipping away with every second of delay. In desperation, I decided to use magic together with Tel to heal his torn Pattern. If I'd been thinking straight, I would never have suggested something so risky — I'd have taken at least a few months to research every last eventuality and prepare every last safeguard. But now, kneeling by Tel's side amid melting snowdrifts, on the cusp of losing consciousness myself from sheer exhaustion, I thought it was a brilliant idea. What could possibly go wrong?

And so I fetched an Enochian book on healing and skimmed through the pages until I came to the appropriate runes. "There. Those runes," I told Tel, and carefully enunciated the syllables for him. In a daze, he parroted them, mangling the pronunciation somewhat less than usual. Perhaps delirium freed his tongue. "Now let's chant together," I ordered.

But although Tel struggled valiantly to recite the runes along with me, they still came out wrong and _off_ magically, and of course the Effect failed. We struggled over and over, until at last I exclaimed in frustration, "Don't say anything! Let me try!" And I chanted in Enochian, thrusting my power at him, willing the magic to heal him.

Which it did, after a fashion. The bones in his twisted left foot straightened out, and the torn muscles and tendons reknit themselves perfectly — into a dog's paw. Complete with golden fur.

In a better mood now that the poultice was easing his pain, Ghallim said almost merrily, "You know, Tel, you really ought to work on 'olding your shape better. I 'ave seen members of ze Cult of Ecstasy with ze same problem. Zey turn into animals randomly. Eet eez most unhelpful." Good thing Tel was so good natured. _I'd_ have smacked Ghallim.

Predictably, Ynez was distressed by anything that marred Tel's appearance. "Is it going to _stay_ that way?" she asked anxiously. Then she winced and gritted her teeth as Ghallim tested a poultice on her.

Tel replied, "I _hope_ not." But he didn't seem overly concerned as he extended and rotated his ankle, testing the joint.

Looking up from Ashton, Astera assessed our conditions and said sharply, "I'm going to need Ynez's help. Tel, heal her."

Tel protested, "But Astera, I _never_ get it right. I just can't pronounce the runes right. My mouth doesn't move that way."

"Just try, Tel. Look inside yourself and — well, just try."

With a sigh, Tel picked up the Enochian book again and glared intently at the runes, as if daring them to escape his tongue. I sounded out each syllable for him and he practiced over and over until he _almost_ had it right. "All right," I said at last. "Let's try it. On a count of three. One, two, three."

Naturally he still distorted the pronunciation, but I — and everyone else in the room — chanted along with him and drowned him out, and lo and behold! Sparkling runes wrapped around Ynez's wounds like a bandage, but instead of dissipating as expected, they began to pulse with an ominous pressure. Paradox built up, just as it had the morning Ashton's Enochian exercises exploded, and before we could throw up any shields, the runes suddenly vaporized into a familiar thick green miasma.

Ashton began to cough so hard that he couldn't even breathe, and Astera threw herself over him, trying desperately to pump the smoke out of his lungs. "Gordon!" she screamed. "Get him to the chamber now!"

Devastated by the new crisis he'd created, Tel twisted the book in his hands (I had to chew the inside of my cheeks to keep from lecturing him). "I just keep making everything worse," he moaned.

Ynez, who no longer resembled a bloodless corpse, tried to comfort him. "It's not your fault. Paradox happens to everyone. Anyway, I noticed a strange connection between your Effect and Ashton's magic — it's almost like it's cut from the same fabric."

Tel was too distraught to care. "But not everyone's backlash kills one of their friends!"

The mice, I noticed, were acting unusually somber and adultlike. Without even a hint of a smile, Sy pulled out an oaken wand that Astera had misplaced six months ago (and in search of which she had ransacked the orphanage for days), and handed it to her a little sheepishly. As a measure of her preoccupation, Astera didn't even bat an eye.

Helen ran up to Ynez and squeezed her so hard around the waist that she doubled over with pain. "Ow! Helen! Not so hard!" Her eyes opened wide with shock. "Did you just transfer _Quintessence_ to me?"

With an oddly maternal smile, Helen kissed her on the cheek. "Good luck, Ynez" was all she said.

"Come," Astera commanded. She had stabilized Ashton at last, and at her nod, Gordon lifted up the boy and slung him over one shoulder with supernatural ease. Adonis trotted after them as Astera began to lead Ynez and Gordon deeper into the caves, in the same direction she had borne Ashton after the Enochian exercise debacle.

"Wait!" I cried, running after them. "Can we help?"

If I had expected more evasiveness about Ashton's condition, I wasn't disappointed. Astera's footsteps slowed but did not stop, and for a long moment I feared she would tell me to go watch the other children (who, if they could handle gang warfare, could very well take care of themselves for one night) or get some sleep. I did need rest, but I didn't believe I could sleep.

At last, over her shoulder, Astera said reluctantly, "Come, if you must. But know that this secret will be disastrous to the House if it gets out. All of the orphans will be in danger."

As I opened my mouth to vow eternal silence, Ghallim probed, "What exactly eez Ashton? 'E eez not truly a young boy, eez 'e?"

Still in that same dragging tone, Astera admitted, "Ashton is keeping something ancient inside himself. I'm surprised Athena has not mentioned it to you already."

The three of us scurried after her, Tel limping along awkwardly on his one human foot and one dog's paw, grimacing with each step until he gave up and flipped into a walking handstand. Curious, Adonis tiptoed up to him and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Well," Tel explained, "this dog's foot isn't made for human walking, so it hurts."

"Hmm, a cast perhaps?" suggested the son of an apothecary and Ars Animae mage. "Or maybe you could turn into a dog completely? I've seen Mother change into animals. I'm not very good at it, but I can make a good flame."

My interest piqued, I asked for a demonstration, and he indeed summoned a very nice fire in the palm of one hand. In fact, it was a better flame than I could have made at his age — he showed the makings of a good Ars Essentiae mage. But although I offered to teach him more, he demurred. "Mother says other mages' ways are corrupting," he parroted in his childish lisp. "She won't like it."

At that, Ynez looked troubled. "But Adonis," she pointed out, "if you help Ashton, you're going to live here with us. Not with your mother."

The little boy cocked his head to a side. "I hadn't thought that far," he admitted.

Ynez frowned to herself and said no more.

As we continued into the caves, the heat began to press on us unbearably until it solidified from shimmering air into roaring flames. Without a pause in her step, Astera flicked her wand a few times to ward us and led us deeper into the Hearth than I'd thought possible. At last we came to a set of stately double doors sculpted with whorls and curves, almost as if the original material had been worn away by wind and sand and the passage of centuries. There Astera took Ynez by the hand and asked, "Are you ready?" At her determined nod, Astera flung open the doors to reveal a majestic, ten-sided room that appeared to have been _carved_ out of stone by the strength of the magic wielded in it. Instead of a flat ceiling, a dome like the night sky soared above us, painted a matte black that absorbed all light. I stared up into it, feeling as if I might fall upward into that endless darkness. Floating overhead were two large glimmering circles, and components that I recognized as the parts of a loom, or perhaps the _idea_ of a loom: the loom of the gods, the loom that might itself have been a god.

Releasing Ynez's hand, Astera said, "Ynez, please stabilize the Umbra. I will show you how to use the loom, and you will assist me — but _do not_ ever try to use it without me! I will teach you everything in time, I promise, but until you are ready, _never_ use it without me."

Ynez nodded vigorously. "I promise."

While she started a chant for an Ars Manes Effect, Astera swooped her wand through the air and floated Adonis up into one of the circles. As soon as his body entered it, he fell unconscious and thousands and thousands of fine threads shot out of him and began to string themselves across the loom like the warp of an endless tapestry. Light burst from them to illuminate the dome with brilliant patches like constellations, and a deep sense of serenity and intimacy pervaded the chamber. I looked on with a mix of horror that the machine was unraveling his very soul, and awe that my House possessed such a Wonder. _Should_ something with this level of power exist? And if it did — which it did — should it be _used,_ especially on children?

Was this the reason the mice acted so strangely? Had they all had their souls unraveled and strung out across this loom? An unwelcome thought came to me.

"Astera," I asked tentatively, "did we all have this done to us?"

After a long, reluctant pause, of the flavor to which I was becoming accustomed, Astera replied carefully, "Yes, but it was different."

My heart seemed to stop. " _I was on this loom?_ " I asked, and I could barely hear my words over the roaring in my ears.

"It was different," she repeated, avoiding my eyes and checking the tension and spacing of the warp. "The soul inside Ashton's body contains the secrets of an entire culture and will be transferred to Adonis."

I felt as if my mind were being stretched, distorted, ripped to hold something too grand for human comprehension, and I focused on something more immediate. "But — but if you're transferring the — soul — to Adonis, what happens to Ashton?"

Briskly, Astera replied, "Ashton's body will die. It has lived for a long time." At our horrified expressions, she added, "He knew what was asked of him."

"You're going to let Ashton _die_?" I cried. Tears leaped into my eyes. After we entered the chamber, Gordon had tenderly laid Ashton on the ground and left again. Now I knelt beside the boy, threw my arms around him, and gathered him close to me. "How can you let him die? I thought the whole point of — everything — was to save Ashton! What was the _point_ of all this?"

A muffled voice said from the vicinity of my chest, "I knew what was asked of me."

"No!" cried Ynez. "They're only children! How can you ask them to make a decision like this? Do they even understand what you're asking of them? What did you do to Ashton?"

It was Ghallim who explained. "Zere eez a god inside Ashton."

Ynez, good Catholic that she was, recoiled. "A god? That cannot be true!"

"It's true," Astera said wearily. "It's an ancient god, the oldest one. When gods' worshippers die, when they are abandoned and forgotten, they come here to find a compatible orphan."

"But that's murder!" cried Ynez. "You're erasing the children's souls!"

"No, no, the personalities merge," Astera explained. "The child is still there, and in this way we preserve the knowledge of the gods."

"You mean the spirits," Ynez said stubbornly. "There is only one God, and I cannot believe that he approves of this."

Tel was just as upset. "But what happens to the original Ashton after you transfer the god — the spirit — the whatever to Adonis? He just _dies_?"

" _I_ won't die," said Ashton, or perhaps the god that lived inside Ashton. "I will live on in a different body. Marina, you must let me go."

I held on tighter. "We're _all_ like that?" I asked, still shocked by Astera's revelation. "Even Tel and me? But I don't remember any of this!" I gestured wildly at the loom, the threads, the bright constellations on the black dome. "I don't remember choosing this!" An awful thought occurred to me. "Does this mean _Cly_ is a god?"

"No!" said Ynez passionately. "Cly is most certainly not a god!"

"No," Astera said, "no, Cly is not. But we all have a god inside, in some sense. The avatar is akin to a god, is it not? And I do not know why you and Tel do not remember. Both of you were here."

Ynez added quietly, "You were cut off from the others."

"You _knew_?" Forget Heylel bani Solificati — Ynez's betrayal would be the bar against which all betrayals were measured. "You knew and never told me? You also went on the loom? And Ghallim too?"

She held out her hands appeasingly. "I only learned recently. I — " she bit her lip uncertainly. "I did not go on the loom. I'm...different, I think. And Ghallim is complicated."

I was running over the tally of orphans who had come to House Criamon in the past. A few had grown up and moved on, but the vast majority had stayed, and the ones who left had never integrated closely with the mice. And while Ghallim no longer lived at the orphanage, he certainly hadn't gotten very far.

"Why are you different?" I asked Ynez. "Different how?"

Without meeting my eyes, she mumbled, "I'm the heir of House Criamon."

Was this the night of revelations-that-will-floor-Marina? Ynez — heir of House Criamon? Granted, I'd always known that she was more talented at magic than I, more powerful, and that Astera took a special interest in her tutelage. And yet. And yet. It was one thing to treat her as a child prodigy and take a big-sisterly pride in her development, and another entirely to imagine obeying her as my Head of House. Ynez, running House Criamon? Where did that leave me? Was I to be her charge forever, a child holding the soul and knowledge of a god in trust for posterity? Was a _vessel_ all I was to be, ever? Was that all there would ever be to my life?

Wildly I thought of Leona, and how she had switched from House Bjornaer to Bonisagus because she felt Tessa was doing too little to stop the Plague. At the time, I'd told myself that I could never leave House Criamon, because it was my home and I loved it and owed everything to it. Now I thought I could understand a little of what had driven Leona to renounce her House. But did I even have that choice?

I whirled back to Astera. "Am I _bound_ here? Is this my prison?" I cried, my voice cracking in my distress. "Will I never age? Will I stay eighteen forever? Or until this body dies?"

"I wouldn't mind staying eighteen forever," Tel said under his breath.

"No, you're not bound here. And no, you certainly won't stay eighteen forever," Astera told us, sounding as if she were approaching the end of her patience. "I don't know why, but you and Tel _asked_ to forget all of this. It was your own choice."

I was so upset that I blurted out the one secret I'd kept for all these years, heedless of what the revelation would do to Tel. "I was abandoned on your doorstep when I was two! But how could you do this to Tel? He's not even a real orphan! His parents are still alive! How could you _do_ this to him?"

Ynez and Tel were both stunned. "What do you mean, Marina?" "How am I not a real orphan? My parents died when I was eight."

The truth spilled out like a bolt of fabric tumbling across the floor. "No, they didn't! You turned them into dogs! Gus and Lily are your parents! They've always been with you!"

My shock when I learned that I was carrying a god or a spirit or something inside of me was nothing compared to Tel's. "How can Gus and Lily be my parents?" he demanded. "They're dogs! How do you know this?"

I cried, "I don't know! I just know it!"

"But Marina, _how_?"

"I just do!"

"Oh no! If Gus and Lily are my parents…they've been with me all along? They've seen everything I've done?" And Tel flushed deep red.

Astera cut into the conversation. "Marina, you were lonely and wanted to become a mouse too. So you went out and found a god when you were eight and bonded with it, but then you chose to forget. Why, I have no idea. But you and Tel had some sort of agreement about the loom." As she spoke, she gestured with her wand, and Ashton rose out of my arms.

"No!" I cried, clasping at the air.

"It will be all right, Marina." Drifting upward, Ashton smiled serenely down at me. "But it is time to let me go." He was still smiling when he floated into the second ring and lost consciousness, and blindingly brilliant threads radiated out of him, winding onto so many sharp shuttles.

Motion at the corner of my vision caught my attention, and I turned to see Ghallim pull a knob off the loom.

"What are you doing?" Ynez hissed at him. "Put it back!"

"Eet will not 'urt ze loom," he assured us. "Eet will 'elp me talk to Athena when she eez being recalcitrant."

Before we could question him further, Astera checked the heddle and picked up a shuttle. "I know it's a lot to take in," she said sympathetically to Ynez. (To Ynez! What about me? What about Tel? We were the ones who weren't entirely human — or something.) "We will talk more."

"No," Ynez insisted. "We need to talk _now_. How can you be certain that Adonis knew what you were asking of him?"

"He's only a child," I added. "Children that young don't understand anything!"

Astera hastily set up an Artes Temporis and Mentis Effect to speed up our time relative to that of the loom so Ashton and Adonis wouldn't die while she argued ethics with us. "Adonis understood what was asked of him. A child who grows up under the conditions he did...well, suffice it to say that he has wisdom beyond his years." We regarded her with skepticism. "Let me show you what I showed him, then, if it will convince you." And in our minds she laid out the procedure by which his identity or spirit or soul would merge with that of Ashton's to form a new — person? Entity?

I believed Astera. Adonis had understood the sacrifice he would make in exchange for home and safety.

But what about me? Had _I_ understood the nature of the sacrifice when I was eight? Had I really chosen to erase and reshape who I was to make room for a god in my head? Who was I? What was I? What did you even call someone — something? — that wasn't entirely human because she had joined with a god, but wasn't semi-divine either, really, because the ritual had failed — or at least been wiped from her memory? How much of what I thought, what I felt, what I knew was _me_ , and how much was the god? Who was the god? Who was _I_? _What_ was I?

Astera turned to Ynez. "The Inquisition is coming," she said, and Ynez turned deathly pale. "They will try to destroy the orphans. One day I will pass the orphanage and the safety of all the children to you. I apologize for not being able to wait one more year, as I had hoped, before burdening you with this knowledge."

Ynez gave her the sort of look that could only be mustered by a fourteen-year-old Adepta Maior who had just been weighted down with responsibility for an entire orphanage of child godlings.

"Now," Astera continued, "you've already discovered that the orphanage is warded against low-level Ars Manes Effects. Let me show you how to undo it." And with her wand, she sketched a rune in the air, a sort of swirly shape that had the feel of spinning a whirlpool backwards to cancel its motion.

Ynez's eyes brightened when she tried it, and I could surmise that many things that had puzzled her were finally coming clear.

"We really need to start the ritual now," Astera said. "If we want Ashton to survive."

I had one final question for her. "How _long_ has Ashton been thirteen?" I asked in a small voice.

"He has lived for decades as a thirteen-year-old. There is much that you do not remember." At last there was some compassion in her voice.

I cast one last anguished look up at Ashton's ancient teenage body and stepped aside to make room for Astera and Ynez to take their places at the loom.

Tel lingered one moment longer. "Adonis," he hissed up at the little boy until he stirred and opened his eyes groggily. "Adonis, I want you to remember this phrase: 'Catch attached oil.' Can you do that?"

The child mumbled assent before his eyes fell shut again.

Then Tel, too, stepped back.

* * *

If I lived a hundred years (which, Astera's reassurances to the contrary, I still feared I would), if I read every great work of literature ever written, I still wouldn't have the words to describe the ritual properly. I could say that it was like watching a grand tapestry emerge under the deft fingers of a master weaver; I could say that it was like staring up into the skies for hours as the stars drifted in their celestial dance; I could say that it was like witnessing an archmage sink into a Twilight that revitalized her soul. It was all of those and none. It was magnificent and terrible and made me tremble to see so much power collected in the hands of any mortal and yet, at the same time, itch to hold that power myself.

With Ynez's and Ghallim's assistance, Astera cast the weft across the warp, and the heddles rose and fell, and the reed battened, and the machine hummed and strained, as if stretched to its limit by the brightness of Ashton's soul. Instead of furling onto a takeup roll, the newly-woven fabric emblazoned the ceiling with so many images and equations that it crushed my mind. After the initial flare subsided, I saw the glow of all nine Spheres (although Ars Animae burned brightest), joined together by delicate tracery like the edges of a snowflake, and I could tell that Ashton was more powerful than even Thoren himself. As the shuttles re-wove the two souls into one great tapestry, the constellations drifted across the ceiling and rearranged themselves into a lynx, a lynx both beautiful and terrible in its pride and its power. Snow began to fall lightly from the ceiling, dusting my hair and melting on my palms when I held up my hands in wonder.

And then something went horribly wrong.

One shuttle bearing the weft of Ashton's soul snagged against the warp, and the fine threads snapped. The entire weaving began to tear itself apart.

Inside his ring, Ashton's eyes flew open and he screamed in agony. At the same time, his lower body began to crumble into dust like centuries-old cloth. As the boy's eyes glazed over, the lynx's blinked open with all the awareness of an ageless soul. The lynx took an experimental step off the ceiling, and Ashton's torso slumped onto its back, almost like a centaur, and began to fade away.

"Ashton, no!" screamed Astera. "I can still fix this!"

Even to my untrained eye, I could see that the lynx was tapping into its own life essence, sacrificing its own spirit for strength, and I found myself calling meaningless, comforting, human nothings up to the thing that was — and was not — the boy I had known.

Under our feet, the floor groaned and genuflected and apologetically transformed into a snowy mountaintop.

A growl like a blizzard came from the lynx. "Cease your manipulations, itinerant soul. You have done enough and should rest." The words howled around our ears like a snowstorm, and I could detect neither pity nor gratitude in that voice.

Astera tried to approach the lynx anyway, and with a swift bound it leaped at her. Ghallim was the only one to react in time — he flung himself in front of Astera and threw up his shield. Midair, the lynx corrected its trajectory and landed lightly on the shield, balancing gracefully as Ghallim struggled to hold it up. A silent clash took place between their Resonances, and the lynx glared straight into Ghallim. Pure hatred suffused its voice as it said, "I see the murderess has taught you well."

Then, with another mighty bound, it was out the door, leaving a trail of blood behind it.

I came to my senses — or, more likely, lost them entirely — and chased after the god-lynx, yelling, "Ashton, come back! Are you all right?"

Ynez pelted after me, but as soon as we burst through the double doors, the heat from the Hearth blasted in our faces and drove us back inside. Astera's shield was fading.

In the chamber, Ghallim was carefully picking up Astera, who had crumpled unconscious onto the floor. Balancing precariously on the edge of the loom, Tel gently pulled Adonis down from the ring. The little boy was unconscious still but moved a little to snuggle against Tel's shoulder.

"You need to shield everyone _now_ , or we'll all fry," Ynez told me. Ordered me. As if she were already my Head of House. But now was not the time to argue, so I bit my tongue and cast the strongest barrier against heat and fire that I could, and we ran or shuffled through the flames back out of the caves, our path marked by splatters of Ashton's blood. On our way out, Ghallim paused to lay Astera in Ashton's old sickbed in the classroom, and rolled out his shoulders with relief. I supposed that even warrior priests got tired.

It felt like a hundred years since we'd left the loom chamber, but finally we emerged into the fresh, cool air under the real night sky. The trail of blood continued across the yard towards Ghallim's temple, the splotches coming thicker and fatter. If we didn't stop him, Ashton really would kill himself. Among the olive trees, I spied movement — the mice were tracking the lynx cautiously, like hunters after a boar.

In Tel's arms, Adonis shifted a little and made a sleepy sound. "Adonis, do you remember what you were supposed to tell me?" Tel asked urgently.

"I was supposed to...to catch...something." Adonis squinched his face but shook his head. "I don't remember what. Is Ashton okay?"

Thinking quickly, Tel replied drily, "He's snowy and elegant."

"I remember being very important," Adonis said.

"You _are_ very important," Tel assured him. "Come, let's find you a bed." To the rest of us, he mouthed, "Wait for me."

After we'd fidgeted for several minutes, Tel returned from the dormitory and we ran across the yard to Ghallim's temple, Ynez and I flying on ahead because Tel and Ghallim were still out of breath. As soon as we entered the temple, we stopped short. Ashton had performed some sort of Effect, with a Resonance of snowy vengeance, to draw all the priests of Athena in the city there. The men stood in a rough circle, swaying and glassy eyed, around the statue of the goddess. Even as we watched, the lynx sucked a surge of power from its life essence and rammed straight into the statue. With a great crash, Athena toppled over and shattered, pieces skittering in all directions across the floor. Pouncing lightly onto the pedestal, Ashton proclaimed in his ringing god-voice, "I was the god of an ancient people, before the Greeks, before the Romans, before iron and steel. Mount Parnassus was my home. My people were conquered, but I remember well what it was like to be worshipped, and I will feel it one last time from the followers of she who destroyed my people."

"Ashton!" I screamed at him, trying to shove priests out of my way. "Stop it! You're dying!"

Beside me, a mirror caught the torchlight. Ynez tried but failed to bind the lynx.

In desperation, because I could not — absolutely could not — watch Ashton kill himself right before my eyes, I pulled out the communications stone Thoren had given me and activated it. _Please answer, please answer, please don't be asleep._ But it was the middle of night and the stone remained dark and silent, so I drew a deep breath and said urgently, hoping he'd hear my message before it was too late, "Thoren, it's Marina. We need your help. We're at the temple of Athena by the orphanage grounds. Please, please, send someone who knows Ars Manes." Ynez looked over sharply at me, and I clicked off the stone without saying anything more.

An arrow arced through the air to pierce the lynx in the foot. It roared in fury. We whirled to find Tel and Ghallim by the door, breathing hard. Tel nocked a second arrow, while Ghallim shouted at Ashton, "Stop! None of ze others are true believers! But I am, and eef you join your knowledge and power to mine, zen I will pledge to you my true faith!"

A slow triumph lit up the lynx's golden eyes. Addressing something inside Ghallim again, Ashton said with malice and with pleasure, "Do you hear that, little bird? Your last believer has abandoned you. _You_ will be the last prey I hunt."

And upon those words, he stepped the entire temple sideways.


	7. Still Too Early on Thurs March 4, 1490

**Still Too Early on Thursday March 4, 1490**

I opened my eyes into a snowy landscape. The outlines of the temple remained about us if I squinted hard enough, but wind howled around the ghostly columns and snow pounded against the pedestal. Frozen in their circle, the priests of Athena continued to stare fixedly at the lynx, with blood leaking from their eyes. Trembling, Ynez fought to counter the Ars Mentis Effect on them.

Overhead, an owl burst into existence and began flapping away frantically, but since Athena was Ghallim's avatar, she couldn't fly any significant distance from him. The lynx's eyes lit up and it coiled its muscles, preparing to spring after its prey.

"Stop draining your life force!" I screamed again, and sprinted forward to fling my arms around the lynx's neck. Ynez gasped but couldn't risk interrupting her ritual to stop me. Tel took a single step towards me, gave a delicate shudder, and transformed into a beautiful white fawn that formed the perfect counterpoint to the lynx. (A tiny corner of my mind thought that Cly would love the symbolism.) Shaking his head a few times, he backed away warily from the predator.

Burning yellow eyes glared at me but fortunately, Ashton didn't rip my face off. Instead, the lynx lifted its head and commanded Ghallim to join the hunt. "I look forward to teaching you, little one," it growled.

Ghallim nodded shortly and began to reel in Athena like a kite. Up in the sky, the owl screeched and beat its wings frantically, straining against his pull.

I could feel power building up all around and within Ashton, energy that I knew he didn't have. "Release me," he ordered, shaking his head and shoulders like an avalanche.

Stubbornly, I clung to his fur and held fast. "Only if you will survive this hunt. Tell me you'll survive, and I'll let you go!"

"No hunt is ever certain," he boomed, his voice echoing off the rocks. "But as long as I have one true believer, I will not die." Under my Ars Fati Effect, the inverse of his words at least rang true: If he did not have at least one true believer, he would certainly die.

"But you only have Ghallim right now. What if something happens to him? What is a true believer?" I persisted. " _I_ believe in your existence. Does that count?"

"It is not enough merely to believe in my existence, little one. But I shall teach you too, in time. Now you must let me go!" At last I unwrapped my arms from his neck, and he sailed off the pedestal with one great leap.

Everything happened in a blur then. Ghallim had manifested the firmament and was shrinking it implacably to trap the owl; Ynez was frantically trying to burn a hole in the sky for Athena to escape through; the owl was flapping forward desperately, heedless of its collision course with the collapsing sky. Then, free from my embrace, the lynx's long, sinewy form flew through the air in one graceful arc, snatched the owl in his jaws, and bore her down to the snowy rocks. I hid my face and plugged my ears, but I could still hear the bird's shrieks and the cat's growls.

Finally the owl fell silent. I peeked through my fingers to see the lynx lift its head from the rocks, muzzle streaming with ethereal blood. It had obviously been rejuvenated by Athena's essence. My stomach lurched. Saving Ashton's life had been our goal all along, hadn't it? And we had sort of succeeded? But I still couldn't decide how I felt about the means, so I gave up.

"Is she — dead?" I asked in a small voice that the snow and wind almost carried away.

"Oh yes," Ynez said emphatically. (A little too emphatically? I was too rattled to read her tone.) "Very much so. She's dead. The deadest. She couldn't be deader."

The white fawn legged it over to me and shoved its head under my hand — for my comfort or Tel's, I couldn't tell. Maybe both. I scratched his ears as I would Timo's and felt a surge of longing for the orphanage and my old life. So much had changed in just a day. Neither Tel nor I was fully human, both of us had joined with a god in a ritual we _chose_ to forget, Tel must be trying to process my revelation that his parents had always been alive (I did feel a little remorse for breaking the news that way), and I was trying to accept that Ynez was permanently my superior. I tried to picture obeying her orders the way I did Astera's, and balked at the image.

But then Ynez knelt by Tel's side and draped herself across his back, stroking his soft fur over and over. My vision of her wearing a Prima's insignia faded, and once again she was the little girl whom Avaris and Ghallim had carried to the orphanage, who grew up to become my roommate and sister. I couldn't find it in me to resent her.

And then the snowy landscape faded, and we found ourselves back in Athens, in the real world. All around us the priests collapsed limply to the floor, like puppets after a show, breathing shallowly. Ynez swallowed hard and continued to pet Tel over and over and over.

"Zat would make a very good pelt," Ghallim said, mostly to himself, mostly in jest (I hoped).

Ynez gave him a look of pure horror and threw her arms protectively around Tel's neck. "No!"

Ghallim gave her a toothy, lynx-like grin. Perhaps it was a trick of the torchlight, but I could have sworn that I saw saliva glisten on pointed teeth. "Don't worry. Ze pelt will be nicer after ze fawn grows up."

"House Bonisagus is arriving," Ashton's deep god-voice suddenly boomed from the fawn. Tel shook his head as if shocked by his new vocal cords.

I'd completely forgotten about my message to Thoren. Trust the cavalry to show up _now_ , when we neither needed nor wanted them. "Oh gods!" I cried. "We have to get out of here before they question us!"

Ynez rolled her eyes. "It's a little late for that," she reminded me in an I-told-you-so-but-you-never-listen-to-me-because-I'm-only-fourteen sort of voice. "They know _you_ called them for help."

"Quick — we need a cover story."

Ghallim, pacing the length of the temple with a new aggressiveness in his step, suggested, "We could say zat we saw a vandal breaking into ze temple and came to investigate."

"Great. That's the story. Now let's get out of here!"

Tumbling over ourselves, we fled. Luckily for us, the Bonisagi were too busy swooping down on the unconscious priests to follow, and so we returned to the orphanage without being harassed. There we found Astera frozen in a Paradox backlash over an Ars Temporis ritual to reveal future catastrophes, and the mice arrayed around her like an honor guard.

"Ghallim." Gordon marched forward as if welcoming back a comrade-in-arms. "I would never have expected it of you." And he embraced Ghallim. "Thank you for saving Ashton."

"Don't thank me just yet," Ghallim told him. "Ashton eez still not doing well. I fear 'e will die eef we do nothing."

I looked at both of them helplessly. "Gordon," I appealed to him. "What can we _do_? How can we help?"

"I know what do," he replied calmly. He turned and nodded at Sy, who stepped forward and ceremoniously presented Ynez with a beautiful candle.

Ynez gasped at the sight. "That — that's a family heirloom. I thought we left it in Seville." She clasped it to her breast, tears springing into her eyes. "Where did you get it?"

Without a glimmer of teasing, Sy answered, "I got it from a merchant, in case I ever needed a favor. Please, Ynez, help Ashton."

Ynez hesitated for only one split second before she nodded. "Ghallim, I need to use the loom on you right now."

"The loom?" Ghallim eyed her warily, as a lynx might eye a wolf.

"But Astera specifically told you not to," Tel protested, still in that incongruous, deep god-voice.

"I need to use the loom at once," Ynez repeated firmly, holding Ghallim's gaze, "because _you_ tore out your avatar, Ashton killed it, and now you're bound to Ashton. Who is dying. And if he dies, you won't ever do magic again."

"I never did any magic," Ghallim pointed out. "Eet was always Athena. Anyway, 'ow do you know all of zis?"

Ynez actually stamped her foot. "Because it's common sense!"

Ghallim's gaze turned inward, and he seemed to listen to a voice inside his head. Then he nodded. "Very well zen. Let us do zis loom ritual."

Tel gave a booming little yelp of surprise. We spun around to see Helen clambering onto his back to ride him. The fawn's legs buckled under her weight. "No, no, no, you'll hurt him!" Ynez hastily dragged her off again and tried to shoo her away.

"You're no fun," Helen pouted, but she gave Ynez a hug that transferred Quintessence to her anyway. "For Ashton."

That was my cue to shield everyone with Ars Essentiae again for the slog back to the loom chamber. Soon I'd be able to cast that particular ward in my sleep, I thought sourly. As Ynez lit dozens of candles all around the room, Ghallim handed her the knob he'd stolen earlier and pounced lightly into one of the circles. He hung there, relaxed and surveying our activities with an air of detachment. Ynez muttered something about how the knob no longer fit back on the loom and tossed it aside in a fit of pique.

"I need Tass," she said. "Someone find me Tass!"

Tumbling out of the chamber, I frantically searched all the nearby rooms until I came across an artifact storage room filled with ancient wooden cribs and pieces of toys that dated back four hundred years. That would have fascinated me another time — where had they come from and why had they been stashed away here? — but at the moment, what interested me more was that all of them were brimming with stored Quintessence from the Hearth. I gathered up an armful of cracked tops and one-legged soldiers and ran back into the loom chamber, where I shoved them at Ynez.

"More! I need more!"

How could I transport them faster? My glance fell on Tel. If not quite a pack mule, he was at least the right shape. "Ghallim! I need to borrow your cloak!" I called up to him.

He refocused his eyes, unfastened his cloak, and tossed it down to me. Catching it in my arms, I half dragged Tel back to the storage room and began bundling pieces of toys into the cloth. Once it was full, I knotted the corners, heaved it over Tel's back, and hustled him back to Ynez. A little bemused but good natured nonetheless, he obediently served as my beast of burden as we emptied out the artifact collection.

The toys began to disintegrate as Ynez ripped Tass out of them and hurled it into the loom. When it was glowing brightly and humming steadily, she started the ritual, drawing Ghallim's and Ashton's souls out of their body as warp and weft, and weaving them together. It went smoothly, much more smoothly than I had expected given Astera's dire warnings, though Ynez frowned and groused that she couldn't tell whether the two souls already matched well or if Ashton were erasing and rewriting Ghallim's personality.

Just as the constellations on the ceiling aligned and flared, we heard a terrible snap. The frame of the loom cracked; pulled beyond its ability to stretch, the fabric frayed and tore. Panicking, Ynez dashed forward to rescue the tapestry but got too close to the shuttles and was sucked up, up, up into the other circle. In a second, the threads of her soul shot out of her and lit up the ceiling, and she fell unconscious.

Ghallim tumbled out of the first circle, landing as gracefully as a cat on all fours.

"We have to get her out," Tel boomed at us, bounding around the loom in anxious circles.

Looking up at the patches of Ynez's soul, Ghallim-Ashton mused, "I don't know. Eet could be interesting to see what 'appens."

I did smack him then. "Just because you're a god doesn't mean you get to be a jerk," I snapped. "Boost me up."

Luckily Ashton chose not to take offense, and Ghallim knelt so I could climb onto his shoulders. Balancing precariously with his hands steadying my ankles, I managed to rip Ynez off the loom. Trailing threads of light tangled about her like a web before sinking back into her skin, but I had no idea what kind of damage they were doing. With Ghallim carrying Ynez, we fled the chamber as if the loom planned to devour all of our souls for a midnight snack.

The journey out through the magical flames was even worse than the terrible trek back from the apothecary. The heat felt like long, clawed fingers that scraped at my shield and pried at weak spots. Several times I thought I might lose control entirely and get us all incinerated, but at last we stumbled out of the caves and fell gasping to the ground. Tel twitched and transformed back into his human form. Ghallim clutched at his head and muttered something about hunting gods and liars. I simply lay for a long moment with my cheek pressed to the earth, inhaling the sweet scents of crushed grass and dirt.

At last I gathered my strength to turn onto my back and brush the soil off my face. Just then the first light of dawn poured through a crack in the clouds.

I was already late for my first lesson with Thoren.

* * *

After Tel had checked Ynez and proclaimed her alive but in too fragile a state for movement, and we'd propped her against a tree with Timo standing guard, I wearily returned to our room to pull on a clean dress, splash some icy water on my face to wake myself, and start the painful process of summoning a wind disk. I didn't have the energy for it, but still less did I have the strength to walk anywhere, much less to the top of the Acropolis. And somehow I didn't think Thoren would teleport here even if I told him that every movement I made felt like it was draining my life force. Given that we'd tangled with the two most powerful gangs in Athens just last night (could it be just last night?), I expended yet more energy I didn't have to cloak myself in invisibility and silence.

But in my exhaustion, I botched.

The wind disk was one of the Effects I used most often, on which I prided my skill and control — and I botched it.

The resulting backlash was a column of fire that roared out of the caves and scorched all four of us (thank goodness the mice weren't around!), and created a blast wave that propelled me halfway across the city to dump me like garbage on the edge of the Acropolis.

After a moment, I found I could breathe again. After another, I even managed to sit up and pick bits of gravel out of my palms, and look around to catch my bearings.

I was near the back, by the Sanctuary of Pandion, and this was the first time I'd seen the Acropolis so quiet. Bathed in the early morning light, the marble of the buildings glowed tenderly as I easily evaded the sleepy guard on duty and stumbled to the back of the Parthenon where I remembered Thoren's workshop was located. I tottered up to his door like a drunkard, feeling grateful that at least the invisibility Effect had worked and no one had seen my ignonimous arrival. With dull surprise I discovered that I was breathing in short gasps and my heart was racing, and I couldn't quite decide which I preferred: that Thoren have given up in disgust and proceeded to his next meeting so I didn't need to face him just yet, or that he be at his desk still, waiting impatiently (and angrily) for the student who had begged for his tutelage and failed to show up on time.

As it turned out, I didn't need to choose after all. As I crept noiselessly up to the door, before I could even raise my hand to tap on the wood, a hand clasped my upper arm and spun me around.

I found myself facing a predictably annoyed Thoren. "Marina," he hissed, "why in Odin's name are you wasting your strength on an invisibility shield? Did you really expect to be set upon by bandits in the stronghold of House Bonisagus?"

In my shock, I lost my hold on the Effect and it shattered spectacularly, whipping my head back with the force of its recoil. Thoren grabbed my other arm to steady me until the world settled again. "N-no," I muttered when I could speak without throwing up. "It's been a long night," I explained a little apologetically.

"I see. And exhaustion justifies the heedless use of vulgar magic? Is this more of the recklessness for which House Criamon is renowned?" His voice sounded as icy as Ashton's breath had been yesterday. But he kept it low, for which I was grateful. I had my pride, and I didn't want any other Bonisagi witnessing my current state. And my headache was killing me. Every sound seemed to impale my temple with thorns. Randomly I wondered what Thoren would say if I birthed a goddess from my skull.

"I suppose it's not your fault you've picked up the bad habits of your House, although I warn you — tardiness is unacceptable for one of _my_ students. You've already wasted twenty minutes of my time this morning, not to mention however long it took to deal with the stunts you pulled last night." Releasing one of my arms, he shoved open the door and yanked me into his workroom, impatiently slamming the door and bolting it behind us. Crossing the room in quick strides, he flung himself into his chair and glared at me. "Have a seat." He stabbed a finger at the chair across the desk.

Too tired even to defend the dignity of House Criamon (or however Ynez phrased it), I obeyed and met his eyes with an effort.

"What happened last night?" he demanded. "House Bonisagus is not your personal cleanup crew."

What happened last night? Where should I even begin? What could I even say? _I learned that all the orphans are part god, including me sort of — except that I asked to forget all of it so I had no idea_?Astera's warning drifted across my mind in large illuminated capitals: "This secret will be disastrous to the House if it ever gets out. All of the orphans will be in danger." And officious over-protectiveness was my middle name.

This much I could tell Thoren: "We received reports of misuse of Ars Animae and, as senior members of House Criamon, felt it our duty to investigate." It wasn't _strictly_ the truth, but it wasn't complete fabrication either. And anyway, he didn't practice Ars Mentis as far as I knew, so I thought I was safe. "And in fact, we discovered Vanessa bani Bjornaer in the act of selling monster leeches to the Reds for the corpses of Blues."

"I see." His tone gave nothing away.

"We were an Adepta Maior, two Adepti, and a priest of Athena. We were entirely capable of handling the situation." (Except for the part where Ynez and Ghallim had nearly died, Tel had flown off in eagle form to chase Vanessa and gotten savaged, and Ynez and I had called Irene in a complete panic, screeching at her and begging for help destroying aforementioned monster leeches because we were too injured to do it ourselves.)

"I see," Thoren repeated, still in that inscrutable voice. Even if he _didn't_ practice Ars Mentis, his instincts were probably screaming that I was omitting quite a bit. (Or maybe he did, and his Effect was screaming about the omissions.) "And the temple of Athena? It appears that trouble followed you home."

Thank goodness we'd prepared a cover story for that little incident! "After we returned from the apothecary, we heard a loud crash from the temple and rushed to investigate. We found a vandal, and we could tell that Ars Manes was involved. As Adepta Maior Ynez had been grievously wounded, I felt it best to call for help." Did Thoren practice Ars Fati? I'd phrased everything carefully so no single statement was an outright lie, but he still didn't look convinced. "On behalf of House Criamon, I again thank House Bonisagus for your assistance."

"I see," he repeated for a third time. He shook his head a little, closed his eyes briefly, then smiled a little ironically. Casually, as if we were discussing the sunrise, he added, "Very well. I suppose part of what attracts me to you is your intelligence and competence after all, and I can't very well complain if the course of your duties puts you in danger. But do try to be more careful."

Wait wait wait. Rewind the last few seconds. _What_ had he just said? All of a sudden, the workspace, lit only by the early morning light falling through the windows, felt a lot less public than it had even moments before. But I didn't have much time to contemplate public versus private spaces, because he continued, "Marina, I'm not a teenager, and I'm not interested in playing games, so let me be direct with you. I find you attractive and intelligent, and I enjoyed your company yesterday afternoon."

I opened my mouth — to say what, I don't know.

"Let me finish. From your actions, I can infer that you feel the same way." I felt the sudden urge to say snarkily, "Yes, I also find myself attractive and intelligent," but for once I held my tongue. Thoren continued, "It would please me to — to continue to spend time with you. Beyond our lessons. If that is your wish as well?" And he looked at me inquiringly, the first sign of uncertainty I'd seen him display.

 _But would you want to, if you knew the truth?_ was the first thought that came to my mind. _That I'm some bizarre, impotent mashup of a human-orphan and a god-orphan that has lost its way?_ "Thoren, can you scan me?" I blurted out. "Am I entirely human?" _What am I?_

Just the slightest bit taken aback at the non sequitur — or perhaps my use of his name without the honorific — he replied, "Ars Manes is no specialty of mine, but I assume you're referring to demonic possession, or whatever it is the Church obsesses over?" I stayed silent. It was an odd question, but there was nothing I could say without betraying my House. "Superstitions. We Norwegians waste no time on them."

When I remained silent and stricken — wanting desperately to pour out the truth, knowing that for the sake of everyone I loved I couldn't — he rose, moved around his desk, and pulled me to my feet. Glints of red danced in his blond hair as sunlight struck the top of his head. His hand slipped down my arm to find my hand, and I felt his fingers wrap around mine, although I didn't look down, couldn't look down. I was too busy searching his face, trying desperately to guess his thoughts. "Marina," he said somberly. "Don't fret your life away. I see nothing wrong with you, but if we discover that you really are possessed, we can deal with that."

 _Even if I'm a unnatural god-human thing?_ But I did believe him — if anyone could deal with that, it would be Thoren.

I still didn't trust myself to speak, so I nodded gravely and wove my fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze.

He relaxed visibly. "Good. I thought — I _hoped_ you might feel the same way as I. However, I should warn you that I _am_ the Primus of House Bonisagus, and as such, my time is not entirely my own. I will not have time to promenade with you in the Agora, or call upon you and Astera for tea, or escort you to dances, or whatever it is young people in Athens do. I _will_ do my best to make time for you, but I can't promise anything. If you can accept that, this may work. If not, then it is better that we not start at all."

His words sounded eminently reasonable to me. He was, after all, responsible for House Bonisagus and the Aegis and the safety of everyone in Athens. "I accept your terms," I said.

In the light from the window, I saw him smile a little, and felt a matching smile lift my lips. "Ah, Marina. Come." He dropped a gentle kiss on my forehead, drew me back to his chair, and pulled me tenderly into his lap. "I don't often have time to myself," he explained, swiftly removing my hairpins one after another and running his fingers through my hair as it tumbled down my back. "We should make the most of it."

* * *

Afterwards, we _did_ have a brief lesson on Ars Vis, because, as Thoren pointed out, he owed me precisely five minutes of class time. And so, while I was pinning my hair back up, he showed me a detailed model of the Aegis laid out on a table by the window and spent exactly five minutes demonstrating how the interlocking Artes Vis, Essentiae, and Materiae Effects in the valves worked. (I saw him time the lesson by a clock on his desk.) If I'd hoped for a scale model that was a little more obviously Wondrous, with sparkly leylines and glowing Aegis stones, I was disappointed — as he'd so bluntly told me earlier, Thoren had no use for unnecessary magical Effects. His model was as plain and utilitarian as he himself was, with miniature Aegis stones carved from gray rocks and leylines formed from iron tubes. Still, it actually mimicked the current state of the Aegis, and if anything went wrong in the city, the appropriate part of the model would flash in a color corresponding to the nature of the crisis, as defined by a legend in one corner. I supposed that was marvellous enough.

An unpleasant thought occurred to Thoren even as he finished explaining the runes he'd used for the Ars Vis component (which actually took a little longer than we'd expected because either House Criamon — according to him — or House Bonisagus — according to me — used a bizarre Enochian variant and we had to work out a proper translation). But I saw his forehead furrow in a familiar way, and I braced myself for another outburst.

"What were you doing with the Hearth last night?" he demanded. "You practically _drained_ it. Do you know the level of stress that put on the Aegis? It nearly collapsed!"

I couldn't meet his eyes. "Umm," I hedged, looking everywhere in the room but at him. That clock on his desk had a Scandinavian air to it, with a plaited design around the borders and stylized figures depicting scenes from Norse mythology. Could one of the mice be a god from the Norse pantheon? Sy as Loki was a terrifying thought. But no, the orphans were all _forgotten_ gods, and at least some of the Scandinavians still worshipped their old gods….

"Well?" Thoren snapped when he judged I'd been silent too long. "Weren't _you_ the one who lectured _me_ on the need for failsafes? What could possibly have been more important than the safety of everyone in this city? _What was House Criamon doing last night?_ "

A fair question — but one I could not answer. It wasn't my secret to tell. And I couldn't risk endangering the children. "I'm sorry," I whispered, peeking at his face. "Really I am, Thoren."

He threw out his arms in frustration. "You don't need to apologize! Just tell me what your House was doing to nearly _drain_ the Hearth! Do you have any idea how much power it takes to _drain_ it?"

I dropped my eyes to the Aegis model and traced one of the stones with a fingertip. "I'm sorry," I repeated miserably. "I can't tell you. It's a House secret." Where was Ynez when I needed her? If she were my Secunda, the least she could do was represent us when other Houses objected to our practices!

At least Thoren accepted that each House had private business — or that he'd get no information out of me. He exhaled a gale of a sigh and said more calmly, "Fortunately, you have certain — _charms_ that make up for your Criamoni recklessness. But next time, _warn_ me before you nearly take down the Aegis and bare the city to the Plague, all right?"

I flushed (trust him to be so open about our relationship!) and nodded obediently, although I was thinking to myself that things just sort of _happened_ at the orphanage — especially lately — and I had no idea whether _I'd_ have any advance warning. The Bonisagi really needed to learn flexibility and resilience.

Speaking of flexibility, Thoren checked his clock again and shook his head. "I need to go — you've made me seven minutes late to my next meeting already. Be here in two days, at the crack of dawn. Maybe we'll have the full half hour this time." He gave me another glare, but this time it was mostly in jest.

I couldn't resist teasing him a little. "I thought class was precisely twenty-five minutes," I reminded him, doing my best to look coquettish.

I succeeded — or maybe failed comically — because he did laugh then and give me a quick hug and parting kiss. "I think we can extend your lessons by five minutes." And, draping an arm around my shoulders, he ushered me out into the sunshine.

* * *

Leona, one of the (two) last people I wanted to see, stopped me as I left the Parthenon. I'd been skirting around the far side of the Acropolis from Hadrian's Library, but she must have set spies on the workroom. "Ah, Marina, just the person I was looking for!" she exclaimed brightly. "Tell, me, what do you think of _De Historia Artium Magicarum_? Have you finished reading it yet?"

After the night I'd had, it took a moment to remember what _De Historia Artium Magicarum_ even was. Cly, the bonfire, Sy…where had Sy hidden the books anyway? Trying not to look too guilty, I hedged, "Well, I haven't had too much time to read lately…."

Fortunately, she interpreted my expression as remorse at not having returned the books yet. "Oh, that's fine, I understand. You and your friends had quite the excitement last night, didn't you? I was shocked when Irene told me about the gangs." She shuddered a little. "Ugh, I don't know why Avaris doesn't order the city watch to control them better. But anyway, do take good care of the books — Irene will have my hide if anything happens to them."

It was my turn to shudder. So, when Leona found out about Cly and the bonfire and flayed me alive, would Irene accept the sacrifice of _my_ skin only, or would she demand Leona's as well for full propitiation?

While she chattered, Leona had been steering me towards her own office on the opposite side of the Parthenon from Thoren's. She gestured me in before her and shut the door firmly, all levity evaporating as she turned to face me. "Sit," she said sternly, looking like a mother ready to tongue-lash her wayward offspring. With a start, I remembered that although she generally treated me as an equal, she _was_ old enough to be my mother.

I sat.

Smoothing her skirts and taking a seat directly in front of me, Leona asked in a no-nonsense tone (which I recognized because _I_ often used it on Sy), "What's going on between you and Thoren?"

Expecting an inquisition on the state of the books, I was taken entirely off guard. "I, er, um," I stuttered, blushing furiously. "He's just teaching me Ars Vis."

"And Astera can't?" It was the same question Ynez had asked me yesterday. I really needed to prepare a better response.

I said a little weakly, "Well, she's really busy…. Ashton — one of the children — he hasn't been doing well and she's always with him…." It was a feeble excuse and she knew it. If I'd been interested in Ars Vis, Astera could have begun teaching me long ago, and if I were really interested now, I could just as well delay my lessons until after a sick child recovered.

Eyeing my hair and then my necklace pointedly, Leona told me, "That's not what it looks like to me." When I began to protest, she forestalled me by raising one hand. "Spare me your lies. I know teenage girls, and for all that you're an Adepta at an extraordinarily young age, you are still — from an emotional standpoint — an immature child."

Well, that was harsh! Who ran the orphanage when Astera was busy? Who took care of all the other children?

Who was — sort of, maybe — part god?

But she wasn't finished. "I don't know what Astera is thinking. I don't know what _Thoren_ is thinking. Has no one taught you about the proper way for a man to court a respectable young woman?"

I thought for a moment. Certainly I'd heard of the rules — chaperons at all times and such — but I'd never thought of them as applying to me. I was used to running around the orphanage — and lately all of Athens — whenever I wanted, with whomever I wanted. Why should it matter all of a sudden whether I observed all the social niceties? Especially if I weren't entirely human anyway? But I couldn't say that.

Leona leaned forward. "Look, Marina, I know you don't want to hear any of this. But a young woman's reputation, once lost, is gone forever. Do you really want to be the one all the respectable women gossip about? Do you want to be the one they call a whore and refuse to admit into their homes, and forbid their husbands and sons to see? Do you want to be the one no decent man will marry? Do you want to be the one the rakes proposition, because they expect you to say yes?"

"But it's unfair!" I cried. "It's the fifteenth century! Why do people even care about these silly, antiquated rules anymore? Tel gets to spend the night with Verrus whenever he wants, and no one even bats an eye!"

And then I stopped and flushed deep red, realizing what I had just said.

To her credit, Leona did nothing more than give me a knowing look. "I know it's unfair," she said evenly. "The world has always been unfair to women, and it's not about to change overnight. The question you have to ask yourself is whether you have what it takes to flaunt all the conventions, to defy all of society and hold your head high when people call you — and treat you like — trash, a _porna_ , a common prostitute. Do you? Because I've known some of the _hetairai_ , the great courtesans, and I don't think you do."

I sat quietly, stunned, unable to frame a single coherent sentence. I really, truly had not thought that far ahead. Despite Ynez badgering me about proper chaperonage — to which I'd replied tartly that half of House Bonisagus wandered in and out of Thoren's workshop so, yes, we couldn't be better chaperoned — I hadn't considered the ramifications of what Thoren and I were doing, and where this whatever-it-was was going. What _were_ Thoren's intentions? For that matter, what were _mine_? What did I want? Besides to be anywhere else than here, in Leona's office, having this conversation?

With a surge of passion, I wanted my old life back. I wanted Timo to lick me awake each morning. I wanted to savor the early-morning quiet of the yard because I knew that once the children woke, it would be just one thing after another and I wouldn't have a spare minute to myself. Except that wasn't true and had never been true, whether I remembered or not, since the mice weren't really children; since they were far older and far more powerful than I could guess; since they'd just been humoring me the whole time as I herded them to class, supervised their homework, summoned them to dinner, patched their clothing, and inspected them after their baths. I couldn't help but feel a little resentful, and a little wistful, as if I'd lost a treasure that I hadn't even known I'd possessed.

Leona couldn't read my mind, but she softened somewhat at my consternation. "I'm not trying to be harsh," she said. "Well, maybe a little, so you'll take it seriously. But Astera obviously hasn't warned you about any of these pitfalls, and no one else will." She gave my hand a brisk pat. "There, now, I'm not telling you how to live your life. Just be a good girl and think about what I said."

Mumbling a promise that I would, I fled her workroom, chastened and wanting nothing more than to vanish.


	8. Afternoon of Thursday March 4, 1490

**Afternoon of Thursday March 4, 1490**

Before I could slink my shame-faced way home from the Parthenon (for the second time this week — this trend really had to end _now_ ), I happened to glance into one of the suites of rooms near Leona's and was arrested by the sense that it belonged to Thanos. This time, betrayal felt less like an assassin's blade and much more like heartbreak. What was that Solificati traitor doing at House Bonisagus? How could Thoren have invited him to take up residence here? I nearly spun around and ran back to confront Thoren, his meeting be damned, and I might very well have if I hadn't caught a glimpse of Thanos himself conversing with a group of Adepti under the grand statue of Athena Promachus. Knowing his presumption, I thought bitterly that he'd picked that location specifically so it would seem that our patron goddess supported his plots.

My wind disk had been a miserable failure, but surely I could manage a simple eavesdropping Effect? Leaning back casually against a column, I carved a swirl that might have been a stylized breeze and pulled the sounds of his conversation towards me.

All I received was a rush of ancient Greek — too fast to understand — and the impression of an roguish wink. Thanos had not only detected my attempt to pry but also shaped an individualized ward against me, calibrated to my interests. _And_ he had the temerity to wink!

Dropping any pretense of subtlety, I shoved the carving back into my pocket and stormed up to him. Of course, the wretched master of Ars Temporis already knew what I intended and had dismissed his coterie long before I stomped across his ward circle.

"Good day, Adepta Marina bani Criamon," he greeted me courteously.

I was not in the least appeased. "Thanos!" I snapped, doing an excellent Tessa impersonation. "You! You tricked us! You lied to us!"

"I did?" He cocked his head inquiringly. "When did I lie to you?"

"When we helped you with the ritual! You — "

He spoke over me smoothly, "You're going to accuse me of dividing the Paradox unfairly two mornings ago, when you assisted with the ritual to freeze the Tower of the Winds, and you're going to blame me for the backlash that destroyed your library."

I stopped, fuming.

"Is it not just that you should share in the cost of the ritual?"

I floundered, trying to regain my momentum. "Well — yes, but you divided it _unfairly_. You split it equally — "

"And so I did. As the main wielder of the Effect, I should have borne the brunt. But I chose not to so I could remain — relatively — unscathed and assist in saving the city. Is the salvation of Athens not worth some unpleasantness to you young ones?"

When he phrased it that way, it was difficult to argue with him. Surely there was some hole in his logic somewhere. "We might have agreed to it anyway," I admitted. "But you should have _asked_ us first. It would have been more fair."

"And so it would have. But you have learned a valuable lesson, have you not?"

My temper flared. "What lesson?" I asked sarcastically. "Not to trust strange mages who claim they're saving the city?"

He smiled at that, a sardonic smile like a stab in the ribs. "Funny you should mention that. And what were you doing twenty minutes ago?"

Twenty minutes ago I had been with Thoren and we had been — did I have no privacy? Did Thanos have no decency? "Thoren's been here for five years," I snapped, trying — and failing — to gore him with my glare. "He's hardly a stranger."

Thanos' smile shifted towards genuine amusement. "It is true," he mused. "I forget how long a period five years is to you young ones."

"Do you peep everywhere in time?" I asked, still fuming over his voyeurism.

"Oh no, of course not. It would be irresponsible — not to mention dangerous — to interfere too much with the flow of history."

"Speaking of that," I began, remembering the _Historia_ and my imminent demise.

" _Speaking of that_ ," he mimicked, "you _did_ after all render valuable assistance to me, and as such should be rewarded." Without using any Foci at all (which awed and then infuriated me), he pulled a papyrus scroll out of nowhere and presented it to me with a flourish.

My first instinct was to step backwards and reject his "reward." But the papyrus was yellowed and the scroll's edges cracked with age, and the librarian in me couldn't resist taking just one peek at its contents. Casting a disdainful glance in his direction, I unfurled the first few inches (carefully, of course — it wasn't the _scroll's_ fault that its master was the most obnoxious mage in existence) — and froze.

"On the History of the Magical Arts" read the first line in ancient Greek.

I barely heard Thanos say "Take care, Adepta."

For here, in my hands, was an even older copy of the _Historia_ than the codex Leona had lent me, which had been transcribed over and over, from papyrus to papyrus, then from papyrus to vellum, and at last from vellum to vellum. Who knew how many errors had crept in, inserted by scribes who'd mistranslated the Greek or simply misread the Latin, and had been propagated through the millennia? In a daze, I unrolled the rest of the scroll, skimming over the lines and comparing them to the Latin translation I remembered. It was the same book. Oh gods, it really was _De Historia Artium Magicarum_ , in the original ancient Greek! What a treasure to add to my library! I'd have Ghallim ward it and display it in a special case. I'd let Astera and Ynez handle it, of course, and Tel if he promised to be very, very careful, and maybe even Jamie if he asked nicely enough (and didn't help Sy prank me for a while). And I could translate the passages Cly had burned, transcribe them onto fresh vellum, and insert the pages into Irene's copy.

I looked up joyfully, almost ready to give Thanos my heartfelt thanks — but he'd vanished.

* * *

After a nice long nap, I woke mid-afternoon from a dream of being tossed about on a fishing boat. Lil was shaking my shoulder and calling my name insistently. When I pried open my eyelids to blink at her, she crossed the room to repeat the process with Ynez. On my pillow, Timo opened one eye and lazily followed Lil around the room with it, not even bothering to turn his head.

"Lil, what's going on?" I asked sleepily, moving a little to snuggle against the puppy's soft fur.

"Astera's going to wake soon, we think," she explained. "Gordon thinks something isn't quite right. Maybe. Well, maybe you shouldn't go just yet. It might be better if you waited. I'll check." Before either of us could say a word, Lil vanished again, softly clicking the door shut behind her.

With a contented yawn, Ynez sat up and rubbed her eyes. I noticed that she was moving normally again, and that all her cuts and bruises had vanished. "Huh, did Tel and Ghallim heal you?" I asked, impressed. I wouldn't have expected that level of skill from either of them.

"No," she said, not quite looking at me. "It was Jamie. As thanks for helping Ashton."

"Ah," I said. Too bad I'd missed a marathon healing session while I was at the Acropolis. Maybe Jamie would heal me too in exchange for a few minutes alone with the ancient scroll? "Do you know which god he is?"

Ynez huffed in exasperation. "As I _told_ him when he said all the mice come from different pantheons, you misunderstand the nature of gods. God — singular. They're spirits."

It was an argument we'd had before and doubtless would have many more times in our lifetimes, and not one I was interested in continuing at the moment. So I stroked Timo's silky ears and waited for her to calm down.

After a gusty sigh, she said, "He's a golden fox. He's _incredibly_ powerful. I don't know how we missed it."

I shrugged a little, jostling Timo and eliciting a long-suffering sigh. "You're asking entirely the wrong person here," I pointed out drily.

"Oh, about that." Ynez picked uncomfortably at her blanket, and I suppressed the urge to tell her to stop fraying the fabric. Without looking at me, she continued, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the mice earlier. I only just found out myself, and I didn't fully understand it, and…. Well, I _should_ have told you anyway. I'm sorry, Marina."

I sighed. I'd already forgiven her, but I was glad for her apology anyway. "It's all right," I said, meaning it. "It doesn't matter."

She twisted the corner of the blanket around her fingers. "I don't even know why Astera picked _me_ to be heir. Maybe — maybe it's because I'm the only one who's not bonded to a spirit. Maybe it has nothing to do with _me_. I don't — I don't know if I'm up to it."

All this time, I'd been envying her for her normality and her talent and her position as heir apparent of House Criamon. And at the same time she'd been feeling left out as the only fully human orphan — was that how I'd felt when I was eight and set out to find my own god? — and fretting over the burden of our safety. How like Ynez — and me — to want exactly what we didn't have! With perfect sincerity, I reassured her, "Astera picked you because of your power and talent, not because you're the only full human around here. She sees your potential."

"Maybe." Ynez still looked troubled, but she untwisted the blanket and started to smooth out the wrinkles.

To change the subject, I asked, "So what have Tel and Ghallim been up to? How's Ashton doing? I didn't see them when I returned."

Ynez laughed suddenly. "Tel _finally_ turned into a puppy! He's been exploring the orphanage with his parents — maybe they're catching up in dog language or something!" She rolled her eyes a little. "And Ghallim and Ashton — well, you'll see. Ashton apparently _really_ likes hunting — especially rabbits — but anything will do. Gordon gave them strict orders to _rest_ first."

I laughed too, picturing fourteen-year-old Gordon ordering Ghallim, who was nearly twice his age, to bed like a recalcitrant toddler.

"Helen ran up to Ghallim right away and greeted Ashton and asked if he were still alive. And Ghallim said, 'I'm both very dead and very alive.' You should have seen the _look_ she gave him!"

After the last few days, just giggling merrily with Ynez in our bedroom felt both very normal and very precious. I hated to spoil the moment, but there was a question I had to ask. "Ynez, _do_ I have a god inside me?"

"I can check if you have a _spirit_ inside you," she retorted, but she picked up a mirror from her nightstand anyway. After gazing into it for only a moment, she yelped, turned bright red, and slammed it down. "Sorry, Cly!" she exclaimed, covering her eyes. "Sorry sorry sorry!"

Cly suddenly materialized in our room, right in the middle of changing. "Oh, _excuse me_!" she huffed. "Can't I get a little privacy around here?"

"Cly!" I said. "What are you doing here? You're always in the library!"

"What do you mean, I'm always in the library?" she asked indignantly. "I go wherever I please."

"No, you don't," I protested. "You're my avatar."

"Enough with this avatar nonsense! I'm sick and tired of you going on and on about it. I am a historian of some repute, thank you very much."

"Cly, what is your real name?" Ynez asked tentatively.

"It's Cly, of course! What else would it be?"

I asked, "Cly, who are your parents?" If I knew their names, perhaps I could research different pantheons and figure out who she was.

"I don't remember," she said dismissively.

"How can a historian not remember these things?" Ynez pointed out reasonably, to which Cly huffed again. I took that to mean she agreed with Ynez but couldn't bring herself to admit it.

"Cly, _what_ are you?" I asked.

"A historian, of course!"

After several more minutes of fruitless conversation, Ynez mouthed at me, "She really doesn't remember who or what she is" and I interrupted Cly mid-rant to say, "Okay, okay, Cly, you can discorporate now," which wasn't exactly the most polite way to treat your avatar and certainly did nothing to stem her flood of indignation.

Eventually we got her to dematerialize — mostly by determinedly ignoring her — and headed out of our bedroom to search for Lil and study _her_ avatar. Both of us were curious whether it would look any different to Ynez's spirit sight, since Lil seemed to be a member of the mice, and yet we'd seen her use Awakened magic like a normal mage.

We stepped out of the dormitory right into a fine gray rain, the kind that clung to your hair and clothing and slowly, insidiously chilled you to the bone. Wintry rain, in March? Had the world gone mad? (Well, yes, it had, but I wouldn't have expected our petty troubles to affect the weather itself.)

As if roused by the rain, Astera suddenly lifted her head from her sand runes and stared around wildly. I could have sworn that she was holding half a pomegranate in one hand, but she dropped her arm and whatever it was vanished behind her skirts. When she spotted us, she exclaimed, "Children! Tell me, what happened? How is Ashton?"

Ynez and I exchanged guilty glances, and for once I felt grateful that I wasn't the heir to House Criamon. Drawing herself up with the air of one who will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, whatever the cost, Ynez reported the night's events in punctilious detail, punctuated by exclamations of horror from Astera. When she had finished the recital, Astera surprised both of us by sweeping her into a tight embrace. "Oh, child! That was incredibly foolish!" Safe in her arms, Ynez began to sob. "There now, don't cry. I forbade you to use the loom alone because I feared the danger to _you_. It is amazing that Ashton still stands. You cannot imagine what it means to me."

Watching the two of them, I felt a stab of loneliness. Astera used to hug me like that, when I was younger, but she hadn't in — was it years? Well, whenever I had decided in all my teenage awkwardness that hugs were for small children, such as Helen, and hence unbecoming of a woman grown. And now it was too late to bridge the gulf. There Astera and Ynez stood, the two of them, the current and future Primae, secure in their human-ness, and joined by a bond that would never admit anyone else, especially not one who was by her very nature a _charge_ of House Criamon. Someone to be sheltered and protected could never be an equal.

A little forlornly, I glanced around the yard and so was the first to spot Ghallim prowling through the slackening rain, which was more of a mist by this point. He padded silently up to us and gave me a grin that showed all too many teeth.

Astera, still holding Ynez, asked as if she could barely believe her eyes, "Ashton? Is it really you?"

Ghallim gave her a very toothy smile and licked his lips. "Zat depends. Eez zere a rabbit in eet?"

For the first time since Monday's fateful Enochian lesson, Astera seemed to breathe easily again. Her smile was genuine and relaxed and joyful, and reminded me of the lightness I had sensed while she worked the loom. Giving Ynez another hug, she said, "Come, Ynez, we need to talk in private."

Before the two could disappear into the caves, I protested, "But Astera, I have questions too. Can't I come as well?"

Astera seemed to fall back down, not entirely willingly, to her responsibilities, and she heaved a tired sigh. "Later, Marina."

When had Astera and I drifted apart? As a child, I had adored her and followed her everywhere (except into the caves, of course). I'd been her little disciple long before I joined her House, as I got underfoot while she confirmed the food stores with Mother Doria in the kitchen, rocked screaming babies in the nursery, and read classical texts aloud to a circle of children. I could swear that those of us reared in the orphanage learned to read ancient Greek and Latin before modern Greek. (It was even a semi-valuable skill on the marriage market, as Josie had proved by marrying that bookbinder from Eleusis.) And certainly I had earned my "family name," Cimon, the time Astera caught me chewing on the corners of Cornelius Nepos' _De Excellentibus Ducibus Exterarum Gentium_ and decided in a fit of whimsy to name me after an ancient Athenian statesman.

So what had happened to our bond? Did it have anything to do with my going on the loom when I was eight? Or was it more that as I grew older and assumed many of the practical aspects of running the orphanage, and stopped wanting hugs, she found herself free to pursue magical projects, which she could not — or would not — share with me?

I missed that old closeness. I missed knowing that I could hide my face in her skirts, and she would shield me from the world. But I didn't know how to tell her any of that. What I did point out was, "I'm _eighteen_ — "

"Marina," she said a little sharply, "Ynez is an Adepta Maior. We have matters we must discuss in private."

It felt like a spanking — no, not that. A casual slap, because I didn't even merit the time that a spanking would have taken. No one else could have hurt me like that. It was the special preserve of mothers, I thought randomly, to know exactly where to stab and twist the dagger. My cheeks turned hot, and tears prickled my eyes, and I feigned a deep fascination with a branch that had fallen from one of the olive trees. With grudging gratitude, I noted that Ynez averted her eyes as she followed Astera into the Hearth.

Diplomatically, Ghallim cleared his throat. "'Ow about 'unting?" he suggested, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "We could find a nice rabbit or two."

With some effort, I shook off my hurt and focused determinedly on Ghallim-Ashton. "We could hunt Thanos," I joked grimly. "Did you know he's at House Bonisagus?"

What I wasn't expecting was the slow, predatory smile that spread over Ghallim's face. "Eez 'e now?" he inquired slowly. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Zat eez very interesting."

"Yes, I saw him this morning. He even has a suite of rooms there!"

I had Ghallim-Ashton's rapt attention. "By all means, let us 'unt 'im. Yes, 'unting Thanos is just ze thing. Perhaps we should lay a trap for 'im."

"A trap? But how? He's a master of Ars Temporis — whatever we do, he'll see us coming."

"Ah, but zat eez why we do something completely unexpected! Eet must be so unexpected zat 'e disbelieves 'is own prophecy! I know — we can burn ze library!"

I gestured wildly at the blackened walls. "Burn the library? Cly did that already!"

"No, no, not zis library. We burn ze library at ze Acropolis."

My mind boggled at the image of all that knowledge going up in flames. "We can't do that!"

"But zat eez why 'e will never see eet coming."

"Uh…." I was at a loss for words.

Seeing my reluctance, he changed tack. "Or — we _tell_ 'im we're _'unting_ 'im. 'E would never expect _zat_."

A complete change of topic seemed like the better course at this point. "Hey, Ghallim," I said, "can I ask you for dating advice?"

He snapped out of a reverie, looking more like himself and less like an eager young lynx. "Dating advice?"

"Yes. I've never, you know, been involved with anyone before, and, well..."

"Ah!" he cried. "I see! Well, eet eez very easy. Eet eez all about ze _smells_. You can tell from ze smells exactly 'ow ze other person feels about you."

When I posed the question, I was rather anticipating a complicated story about the court of the Queen of France, or the elaborate recital of a chivalric ballad — and maybe one or two useful pieces of advice — but _smells_? Could anything be less helpful? I really didn't remember Ashton acting this oddly prior to Monday. But then again, there appeared to be an annoying number of things I no longer remembered, so who knew?

Ghallim was still rambling on about smells and animal attraction when Ynez walked back out of the caves, trying much too hard to suppress a grin. "Hey, Marina," she called, simultaneously abashed and exultant. "Astera says that I need to gain leadership practice and earn respect, so she put me in charge of the orphanage while she rests, and since she always used to put you in charge, I was wondering if you have any advice — "

At the same time, Ghallim was saying, "And eef ze other person smells like red, zen you know zat zey feel passionate…."

"My God!" said my Secunda, hiding her face as if she'd walked in on us stark naked.

I knew it wasn't her fault Astera favored her, but I still couldn't resist tormenting her a little. "Ghallim's giving me dating advice," I informed her brightly. "Apparently, it's all about the smells."

"Oh God!" The slivers of her face that I could see between her fingers were the nicest shade of crimson.

"Yes," agreed Ghallim with malicious cheerfulness. "Ze smells tell you everything you ever need to know."

Poor Ynez looked as if she were contemplating digging a hole and burying her head in it. My mission accomplished, I could afford some modicum of mercy, and so I updated her on our earlier discussion. "Also, I was telling Ghallim that Thanos bani Solificati is at House Bonisagus."

Her head jerked up. " _What_?"

"He has a suite of rooms at the Parthenon."

"How do you know that — oh. Oh." And she hid her face again.

I decided to show my magnanimous nature by ignoring such a perfect target. Instead, I continued as if she regularly carried on conversations peeking out from between her fingers. "I don't know why he's there. I did talk to him — " (or more accurately, yelled at him) " — about how he tricked us, and he gave me this." And I pulled out the papyrus scroll to show her.

Ynez pointed a mirror at it for only a moment before she screeched like an owl. I swear I saw Ghallim's ears perk up. "Get that out of here! It's a spying device!"

"What?" Stunned, I examined the papyrus and found traces of some sort of Effect.

Ghallim added, "She eez right. Eet eez a — what do you call eet — an Artes Essentiae and Conjunctionis Effect."

Thanos! I really _would_ kill him! "We are so definitely hunting him!" I declared.

Ghallim grinned at me. "I like 'ow you think."

"I want that scroll off the orphanage grounds _right now_!" Ynez shouted.

Inside my head, Cly stirred and materialized beside us. From Ynez's expression, she could still see my avatar. "What's that? Wait, is that Herodotus' handwriting?" Cly swiped ineffectively at the scroll, her hand passing right through the material. "Marina!" she gasped. "That's Herodotus' own copy of _De Historia Artium Magicarum_! How did you get it? I thought it burned in the Library of Alexandria!"

That gave me an idea of how to deal with Thanos' poisoned gift. "All right," I told Ynez and Ghallim. "Here's what we'll do. I've have Jamie copy it, and then we'll burn it."

"No!" Cly howled, reaching pointlessly for the scroll. "No no no! You can't burn it! That's Herodotus' own handwriting! It's the original!" Which was pretty ironic, given how heedlessly and happily she'd burned my library just two days ago.

At the same time, Ynez protested, "Wait, I didn't say you had to _destroy_ it! Just get it out of here!"

Ghallim offered, "We 'ave some storage rooms under ze temple for valuables. I could 'ide ze scroll zere."

That did seem to be a more measured response to Thanos' scheme than destroying a priceless antique. So I handed over the Trojan horse and dispatched Jamie, who still looked a little worn from healing Ynez, with a few bottles of ink and an armful of quills and parchment to the temple.

After Ghallim returned — like the rest of the mice, he now seemed to be tied to the orphanage — he reported that Jamie was hard at work copying the scroll in the basement. To Ynez's anxious query, he also reported that all of the priests had survived Ashton's disturbance except for the head priest, an elderly man whose heart had failed at the sight of a lynx attacking Athena herself. Without an obvious successor, the priests had rather forlornly turned to Ghallim for guidance, and he'd set them to work organizing funerary rites. "I told zem zat another god attacked, and zat zey should continue on and keep ze temple in ze names of Athena and ze head priest," he explained to us. I found his care for his old colleagues reassuring — at least Ashton hadn't entirely subsumed the old Ghallim.

Our brief interval of peace was shattered by a scream of wrath from the Tower of the Winds and the sense of perilous countermagic, but before we could even open our mouths to say "Tessa," the Resonance of a creepy moth at night swept across the orphanage. Who should come storming up the path towards us but Vanessa bani Bjornaer, looking ready to dismember all of us and feed us to her pet leeches?

To my horror, Adonis reluctantly trudged out of the dormitory. "Go back!" I hissed at him. "Hide!"

But he shook his head. "Mother hates cowards. She knows I'm here and she'll be angry if I hide."

There was no time for me to do anything more than step in front of him and spread my skirts wide.

Vanessa came to a halt before us, looming over us with her aura of intimidation enhanced by Ars Animae. I steeled myself to defend — or possibly deny — our actions, but she took all of us by surprise. "What right have you to condemn our entire city to starvation?" she shouted. "Is House Criamon so blinded by hubris?"

Whatever recriminations we might have expected, this was not one of them.

"I have some knowledge of Ars Temporis and I detected all three of your Resonances at the Tower of the Winds! Do not even _think_ of trying to deny what you have done!"

Ynez replied, a little shakily, "Adepta, we acted to buy time for House Bonisagus to stabilize the Aegis."

Ghallim added, "And eet was not we three who were ze main creators of ze ritual. 'Ave you considered speaking to Thanos?"

She paused very briefly. "I did detect a fourth Resonance." Then she rallied. "But three of the four are right here in front of me, so why should I not confront you?"

"Because we only assisted him," Ynez explained haughtily. "And anyway, the ritual was only to delay planting for a week. That would hardly condemn the city to starvation."

"Do you not even realize what you've done? Every Effect — especially one as powerful as that — has a back reaction. This one, while slowing time for the Tower of the Winds, _sped_ up the passage of time for the seeds! They have all decayed and are useless!"

Suddenly I remembered my Ars Fati Effect, and how I had modified the ritual so Tessa would never plant. It looked as if I had succeeded.

Ynez paled a little at Vanessa's revelation. Still, she held her chin up and proclaimed, "We merely followed the lead of Magister Thanos bani Solificati. If you have any objections, you should take them up with him yourself. You may find him at the Parthenon."

"That doesn't absolve _you_ of responsibility for your actions!"

"True," said Ghallim casually. "Or perhaps you are trying to lure off ze weaker ones because you fear ze strong one."

Vanessa bristled at the suggestion of cowardice. "Absolutely not. Astera should control all of you much better. The damage you can do with your power — well. What do you expect from House Criamon anyway? Although I must say that I never expected even you to sink to the level of kidnapping. My ruined apothecary reeks of your Resonances, Criamoni."

Under his breath, Ghallim muttered, "We should sell zat as a service."

Without bothering to acknowledge his remark or peer around my skirts, Vanessa ordered, "Adonis, come."

I quickly backed up a step, pushing Adonis further from her.

"And does House Bjornaer sanction child abuse?" Ynez demanded. "Adonis is under _our_ protection. Your child is far safer with us than with a mage who corrupts the very nature of Ars Animae and incites gang warfare for her own selfish purposes."

Ghallim prowled around behind Vanessa and paced back and forth like a lynx ready to pounce. Unfortunately, having spent too much time around the Reds, she was perfectly comfortable with violence and nearly impossible to rattle.

I cast about for something diplomatic to say, but unfortunately all that came to mind was, "Allowing Tessa to plant would have destroyed the city."

From the looks of shock on Ynez's and Ghallim's faces, that might not have been the wisest move.

"What do you mean?" Ynez demanded.

"Why would planting 'ave destroyed ze city?" Ghallim inquired.

"I checked Thanos' statement with Ars Fati," I explained. "It told me that if Tessa planted, the city would be destroyed."

Ynez shook her head. "No, no, no," she said emphatically. "That cannot be right."

Vanessa was also shaking her head in disgust. "All of you really need a better role model."

Drawing herself up to full height and glaring up at Vanessa, Ynez said icily, "Are you proposing yourself?"

"No, I wouldn't dream of taking on such a hopeless task. Adonis, come here at once. We're leaving _right now_."

Behind me, Adonis quivered, torn between following the mother he had been conditioned to obey, and trusting his new friends who claimed they could protect him. Admittedly, the revelations that we had destroyed his home and possibly condemned the entire population of Athens to death by starvation weren't points in our favor.

When Vanessa took a step forward, I hastily threw up a shield around Adonis and me. "You can't take him," I declared as firmly as I could.

A small voice said from behind me, "Maybe it's better for everyone if I go."

"No, no," said Ghallim, prowling up to him. "Take 'eart, Adonis. You are a panther, a brave panther! You do not fear anything."

Even through his fear, Adonis giggled a little. "I'm not a panther. I'm a rabbit!"

Ghallim's eyes lit up in a way that did nothing to reassure me. "A rabbit! Tell me, what type of rabbit? A brown one? A white one?"

While Ghallim was talking, Ynez began summoning something. I quickly strengthened my shield, drawing inspiration from the lightning strikes that had leaped from the ruined leyline. I meant for it to zap Vanessa if she tried to grab Adonis, but instead the little boy, with a cry of "Stop babying me!" ran straight into it. "Ow!" he shrieked, clutching at his arm.

"Adonis!" I cried, dropping the shield and whirling around. "Are you all right?"

He was sobbing, his left arm covered in burns like acid ink splotches. Ghallim hastily dropped to his knees to examine and heal the little boy.

"How _dare_ you harm my child! And you claim that he's safer here?" Vanessa shouted. "Give him back!" She thrust one hand at me, and from her fingertips thorny green vines lashed out to wrap tightly around my neck. Gagging and coughing, I clawed desperately at them, but they were smooth and supple and I couldn't work my fingers under them. At Vanessa's gesture, they constricted and began to cut off my air.

Over my strangled gasps, Ynez screamed, "Marina!" In her panic, she manifested her wrath, which burst into existence as an enraged mother bear that raked one paw directly across Vanessa's face. Blood spattered everywhere. "Get out! Get out! Get out!" Ynez shrieked, over and over.

Fighting to escape the vines that had rapidly taken root and anchored themselves to the ground, I picked up Adonis and struggled away a few steps before he yelled, "Stop hurting Mom!" And then I discovered firsthand that, like his mother, the little boy was quite talented at Ars Animae, because he brought his hands up in a ripping gesture and tore a gash through my Pattern.

I knew, because I'd read warnings about that particular Effect and because I'd seen Tel after Vanessa got through with him, that Pattern damage was one of the cruelest tortures a mage could inflict. What I hadn't known was that no imagined pain could compare to the actual experience. I felt as if I were dying, as if my body were being shredded by a hundred thousand tiny needles. Millions of little sparkly dots filled my vision, each a red-hot pinpoint, that coalesced into one blaze of agony.

Then the world went mercifully black.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my back in the yard staring up into the gray sky, and Ghallim was lathering my neck with one of his herbal concoctions. I could hear people screaming and running — away, to judge from the fading footsteps — and Adonis was sobbing heartbrokenly, "Mom! Mom! Wake up! Please wake up!"

Ynez's face, the same deathly shade as the clouds, swam into my field of vision. "Marina! Are you all right?"

"What — what happened?" I croaked.

Pressing her lips together, she shook her head as if she couldn't bear to speak. It was Ghallim who explained, "We tried to give ze cub back to eets mother, but ze bear killed 'er. I am impressed you 'ave a bear," he added.

Wracked with hysterical sobs, Adonis ran up to Ynez and beat wildly at her skirts. "You killed her! You killed her! Murderer!"

"What do we do now?" Ynez whispered. "Oh, God, I _killed_ her."

"Well, did you _mean_ to?" asked Ghallim practically. "Did you summon ze bear on purpose to kill her?"

Ynez shook her head frantically. "No! No, of course not! I didn't mean for — for any of this to happen," she finished in a miserable voice.

"So we tell people ze truth — zat Vanessa was inciting gang warfare, we stopped 'er, and she came 'ere to wreak vengeance and reclaim 'er abused child."

I half-nodded weakly and immediately regretted moving my head. "That may be the best plan."

Ynez didn't even hear us. She was staring glassy eyed at the tumble of skirts and hair that had been a person, a living, breathing person, just minutes ago. "Someone get Astera!" she shrieked suddenly. Footsteps, probably belonging to one of the mice, pounded away.

Another set approached, thumping out a regular beat on the packed earth, inexorable as fate, steady as death. A familiar light, detached voice said, "She won't arrive in time."

Thanos had come.


	9. Thursday March 4 to Friday March 5, 1490

**Thursday March 4 to Friday March 5, 1490**

"Oh, no," cried Ynez. "I will _not_ have him in the orphanage!" Gathering up her skirts, she swished forth grandly to confront him. Ghallim, however, paused to offer me his arm gallantly and escorted (or rather, supported) me past the ward line.

"Why have you come?" Ynez demanded with no attempt at courtesy.

Thanos spread his arms in a mock-conciliatory gesture. "Why, Ars Temporis but told me that you young ones would...have need of my services. And so I came in case my vision spoke true — as I see that it has." He nodded over Ynez's shoulder at the bloody, mangled body of Vanessa bani Bjornaer, and at the hysterical little boy beside it.

Convinced by neither his words nor his tone, Ynez crossed her arms and set her chin stubbornly. "And you would do this out of the goodness of your heart?" Her tone proclaimed that she wouldn't believe him even if he swore by our Father and all His angels in Heaven that _he'd_ frozen the Tower of the Winds.

Again without using any Foci, Thanos swiftly slowed time so we could negotiate before the hue and cry arose. He smiled benevolently at us. "Of course not," he said. "I would not, nor would you believe me if I claimed to. So let us be frank with one another. In exchange for returning Vanessa bani Bjornaer to life and saving your House, I want something in return."

Ah, here it came.

"Eez eet not reward enough to prevent zis city from descending into political chaos?" Ghallim inquired. "Since you say zat you wish to save Athens?"

An amused smile flickered across Thanos' face. "That is an excellent attempt at manipulation. I commend the effort." Consternation and chagrin chased each other across Ghallim's face. "But alas, no, it is not sufficient reward. For Athens will not descend into chaos — House Criamon alone will fall."

Gathering up my wits like a bandage and focusing on the conversation with a commendable effort of my own, I asked suspiciously, "Why are you still here? You already froze the Temple of the Winds. Haven't you saved Athens already?"

His gaze lingered on the bruises and gashes around my neck. "I'm here to help my family," he said simply.

"Your _family_? But why are you at the Parthenon?"

"Family matters."

Family matters? Did that mean he had relatives among the Bonisagi? Dear gods, please don't let it be Thoren!

Thanos had already turned back to Ynez. "You know what I want."

We exchanged a quick glance. "Is it the you-know-what?" I hissed, thinking of the loom.

"I think so," she mouthed back. Then she shook her head firmly at Thanos. "You can't have it."

"Why not?" he inquired, as if he were buying onions at the market. "You don't believe in gods anyway."

Beside me, Ghallim had begun a one-sided conversation with Ashton. "I know! We can create _extra_ chaos in ze city! Zen eet will be well worth eet for 'im to 'elp us now."

Thanos ignored him and shrugged offhandedly. "You know I can take it anyway, should I wish."

Ynez and I frowned at each other again. As far as we knew, the loom was protected not only by the layers of wards around the orphanage but by the fires of the Hearth itself. How did Thanos propose to "take" it so easily?

A thought suddenly struck Ynez. "Wait, are we talking about the same thing?" And, to my exasperation, she opened a private mind link with Thanos.

While the two conversed silently, I interrupted Ghallim's animated discussion with Ashton to say, "I like your idea better. The one where we just tell everyone the truth."

"Agreed," he said promptly. "Eet seems safest."

Bracing myself against Ghallim's arm, I reached out to tug at Ynez's sleeve and announce our resolution.

As she looked over at me, Thanos said aloud, "Of course, I have only been masquerading as a Solificato. With _its_ use, I mean to benefit everyone."

"What manner of man masquerades as a _Solificato_?" asked Ynez in disgust.

"What does he _want_?" I demanded impatiently.

"He wants the keys to the city."

"Ah, you mean ze keys to ze Hearth?" Ghallim interpreted. "I would not recommend zat."

Ynez ignored him and stared straight at Thanos. "I can't do it," she told him flatly. "If I need to live with the burden of this murder, so be it — but I cannot give it to you."

A fleck of respect entering his dark eyes, he tipped his head to one side consideringly and nodded once. Then he turned and examined Ghallim with detached curiosity. "I don't recognize you."

Ghallim stared back impassively, and Ynez said firmly, "We're done here." Then she gave a start, reacting to something he said in her mind.

At the same time, Ghallim and I remembered his threat to seize what he wanted, and we acted simultaneously to shove her back across the wards onto orphanage grounds, Ghallim with his free hand, and me with Ars Essentiae. Caught off guard by the force of our push, Ynez stumbled over the uneven grass before she caught herself.

Shaking his head with amusement, Thanos turned and strode away.

As soon as Ghallim had half-carried, half-dragged me back into the yard, I demanded, "Did he get it?"

Still a little dazed by everything that had just happened, she shook her head. "No, he didn't."

Bruised, bleeding, Pattern-torn, and tormented by a murderous migraine, I released Ghallim's arm and flopped to the ground, pressing my head against my knees. Teetering through a dream of pain, I half-followed Ynez and Ghallim's argument over God's mercy and whether He would blame her for something He had done (manifesting the bear, I supposed). " _Yes_ ," she said emphatically, to which he replied, "Zat eez very Christian."

At some point I opened my eyes to see that dusk was falling, the mice had arrived, and Helen was attempting to embrace Adonis, who kept batting at her arms. After a bit of discussion, the others decided that despite his agreement with Astera, it would be too cruel to keep him here where he had watched a bear maul his mother to death and where the grass was still stained with her blood. The kindest thing to do would be to send him to House Bjornaer for fosterage, and until Thanos' ritual wore off, he could stay in the temple of Athena.

Overhearing the last part of their conversation, Adonis slapped away Helen's hands, shrieked "Murderers!" and tore off into the city. Ghallim chased after him, attempting to herd him towards the temple, but he'd have done better to bond with a shepherd-god, and Adonis, calling upon his rabbit affinity, rapidly disappeared into the warren of streets. I looked around frantically for someone who could keep up. "Sy," I croaked. "Sy, follow him. Keep him safe."

At Gordon's nod, Sy darted after Adonis.

Ynez stared blankly after the two boys for a moment, then shook her head hard. "I must go to church," she said to no one in particular. "I must pray." Then she, too, began stumbling into the shadowy streets.

Letting a dazed fourteen-year-old girl wander all the way across the city in the dark on her own seemed like the worst idea ever, on a day already full of worst ideas. But I couldn't — and Ghallim wouldn't and probably shouldn't — accompany her to church. So who could keep her safe? Whose company would she accept?

A flash of gold by the old library caught my eye. "Lily," I coughed. "Lily." Tel's mother trotted up to me, nuzzling my cheek with a soothing, maternal touch. "Go with Ynez. Keep her safe."

She turned and disappeared after Ynez.

I continued to sit on the ground, following them with my eyes and wondering tiredly if I'd ever get up again. Maybe I'd sit here forever. My legs didn't want to straighten, and I doubted I could keep my balance anyway. At last it was Gordon who knelt by my side. "Come on, Marina," he said, slinging one of my arms over his shoulders. "You should be in bed."

As we staggered towards my bedroom, I slurred at him woozily, "Gordon, how should I treat the mice? It seems — disrespectful — to treat you like children when you're ancient gods."

After a moment of consideration, he explained, "We _are_ children, though. We're both orphaned children _and_ orphaned gods, and the one is integral to the nature of the other. If we ever stopped acting like children, our two natures would start to unbind and that would be — that would not be good."

So was it bad that _he_ was acting like the adult here, putting me to bed and tucking the covers around me? "So I shouldn't act any differently around you?" I asked sleepily, trying and failing to keep my eyes open.

"No," his voice came from far away. "No. You're still Marina, and we're still the mice. Sleep, Marina."

And so I did, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

* * *

When I woke the next morning, feeling marginally better, Ynez still had not returned from church. Granted, I didn't know much about Catholic practices despite four years as her roommate, but an overnight vigil seemed a little excessive. What was she doing — lying prostrate in front of a crucifix? Flagstones were _cold_. She hadn't taken a cloak with her, and she was going to catch a chill.

Slowly easing myself off my bed and picking up her cloak, I called Gus and Timo and set off for the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea. Located much too far to the northeast of the orphanage, it dated from the eleventh century but had been built on top of an ancient temple of Athena (a source of some distress to Ghallim pre-Ashton), and consisted of a compact hodgepodge of structures that had been tacked onto one another over time. To my eyes, accustomed to the clean, elegant lines of classical Greek architecture, the most acceptable feature of the church's "design" was the octagonal dome over the original portion, although the blue-and-gold mosaic of Mary and her baby over the main entrance wasn't bad, and Ynez swore that the frescoes inside were more than worth the long trek. I'd never accepted her offer of a guided tour.

Now it looked as if I'd get to admire the artwork whether I wanted to or not.

When I tottered up to the main entrance and leaned against the wall to catch my breath, I noticed a little placard that stated the Catholic service was just ending, and the Greek Orthodox one would begin in about ten minutes. I thought I caught a glimpse of Ghallim on a nearby street corner, but when I looked again, he'd vanished. Well, whether he chose to hide or not, I still felt safer knowing he was around.

Followed by the two dogs, I mingled with the worshippers and slipped into the church, passing under the famed mosaic, and entered a sort of large open space with high ceilings and arches supported by what might have been the original columns from the temple of the Athena. But for the marble columns, every flat surface was painted in large, colorful, stylized depictions of saints and other Biblical figures (presumably). Everything about the decor was calculated to overawe the viewer, I thought grumpily, impressed despite myself, and to draw the eye upward towards the dome and the heavens.

Near the back of the church, hunched over miserably in one of the pews closest to the door, was Ynez's small figure. Skirting Father Emmanuel and his assistants, who were busily rearranging the church for their service, I slid across the wooden bench to join her. Underneath the pew, Lily lifted her nose from her paws and whuffed softly in greeting, and Gus and Timo padded in after me and arranged themselves underfoot, Gus leaning against Ynez's leg affectionately.

"Ynez," I whispered, a little intimidated by the way voices echoed in the church, "you've been here all night. Let's go home."

In ringing tones, Father Emmanuel welcomed the congregation and a choir began to sing the day's service.

Ynez had been bowed over her clasped hands, eyes shut, murmuring a prayer in Latin. At my light touch, her eyes flew open. "Ye-es," she said, looking around as if surprised to see morning light streaming through the windows, and Father Emmanuel standing behind his silk-draped altar. "Yes, let's."

But as I wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and creakily made to rise, she suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. "Is it just me? Do you see that purple light?" she hissed.

I, too, was frowning at the lavender glow that was overwhelming the blue-grey morning light playing across the frescoes. Half-turning in the pew for a better look, I caught my breath — striding through the main entrance was an entire procession of stern Crusader types, led by a tall woman in the gaudiest outfit I'd ever seen. Her ankle-length skirts were so wide that they barely fit through the door, and their shimmery lime green fabric was printed with bouquets of red and pink and yellow and white and lavender flowers, a riot of colors that clashed with the more muted tones of the church. Her bodice at least was black, but the neckline and sleeves were trimmed with white lace, and an incredibly pointless short black lace apron puffed out over the front of her skirts. You would _never_ use anything like that in a kitchen. You'd need an apron for the apron! And above her shoulder floated an angel — an _angel_? — with feathery wings whose tips extended nearly to the hem of its gown. The wings _glowed_ in a pale violet hue that matched some (and warred with the rest) of the flowers on her skirts. My eyes hurt.

"Oh no!" Ynez gasped beside me. "That's Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor! I knew her in Seville."

"Why is that bad?" I whispered back.

From the altar, Father Emmanuel had begun the day's homily on original sin, but more and more of the congregation was turning around to stare wide-eyed at the procession and the angel. In the pews, people pointed covertly and whispered anxiously.

As Zoe Medina took her first step down the aisle, she commanded in a clear voice that carried throughout the church and silenced the choir, "Cease your lies!" At the same time, the angel raised its arms and smiled beatifically at the priest, and his mouth snapped shut. I could see him struggling to move his lips, but Zoe's Ars Essentiae Effect — with an angel as its Focus! — sealed them tightly.

Processing in a stately manner towards him, her skirts hissing softly as they brushed each pew in turn, Zoe proclaimed, "You, Father Emmanuel, have aided and abetted the witches and warlocks of this city. Through inaction you have allowed their sins to fester. Your innermost soul, forged by God Himself, may have been saved by His Son's sacrifice, but you hide yourself from His glory."

The priest shook his head frantically and gestured desperately at the choir to sing and drown out her accusations, but they stood like so many blocks of salt.

Zoe raised her voice to a shout: "You deny the leadership of the Pope, God's voice on Earth! You allow demons to rot your city! But by far your greatest heresy is that you afflict the Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven and mother of our Savior, with original sin, which all save her must bear!"

One final step brought her onto the platform itself, and he cowered away from her flying skirts. Swinging around to face the congregation, she swept one arm across the altar and dashed the golden chalice to the floor. Wine sprayed out like blood across the first few petrified rows of the congregation. "But know that there are no limits to God's grace, and that none are past the point of redemption!" She raised her arms, the angel echoing her gesture. "Now see the sins of your Father Emmanuel laid bare!"

With a silent explosion, black forms burst into existence all around him — oversized leeches, cockroaches the size of my hand, dark spirits that oozed and dripped malevolence. Screams and the crashes of overturned furniture rent the air, half of the worshippers stampeding desperately towards the exits, the other half cringing in the pews, too terrified even to flee.

Father Emmanuel finally managed to choke out, "This is the Orthodox Church! You have no right!"

"Do I not?" A cruel smile darkened Zoe's face, and the angel brought its hands together in a crushing gesture. An invisible force smashed into the black forms around Father Emmanuel, shredding them one by one.

I tugged at Ynez's arm. "Let's go!"

Breaking free of a trance, she nodded vigorously. "Yes! She's an Inquisitor. She'll come after the orphanage."

Bent over to avoid attracting her notice, the two of us edged towards a side door, clinging to each other's hands and trying not to get knocked over and trampled. The dogs circled us and kept our feet clear.

But when we reached the door, I glanced back towards the altar and saw Zoe looking in our direction, a light of recognition in her eyes. Blessedly, she made no move to stop us. Instead, she shouted above the screams and the pounding footsteps and the hideous sounds of wood furniture screeching across tiles, "A dark evil rests within this city! God's glory should have crushed this Black Death long ago, but it persists because we sinners permit it! The Inquisition has traced the roots of the Plague to this city. Demons dwell here who provide it with sustenance, but we shall root out this evil!"

And then we were out on the street, swept along and buffeted by the crowd of panicked churchgoers and pedestrians who had caught our terror. Blindly we fought to move in the right direction, but the crowd kept carrying us the wrong way. We were pushed and shoved; my hair tangled on other people's buttons and tore free of its pins; and Ynez shrieked and nearly fell when someone trampled her hem. At last, a hand seized my arm. Ghallim materialized beside us. "This way!" he shouted above the screaming. "Follow me!"

Ynez latched onto my arm, and like a chain of humans and dogs we finally made our way onto quieter side streets.

* * *

Back at the orphanage, Ynez dropped my arm and ran shrieking towards the caves. "Astera! Mater! _Mater_!"

Astera came running from the direction of her bedchamber to meet us. "Children! What is it?"

"Oh, Mater," Ynez wailed. "The Spanish Inquisition has come! Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor has brought them! They'll destroy the orphanage and kill all the children!" And she poured out an impressively coherent account of Zoe's hostile takeover in the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea.

When she had finished, Ghallim added, frowning, "Eet eez true. But I _did_ notice zat ze seraph eez only an offensive weapon, not a defensive one. Eef eet comes to a fight, I can take Zoe, but not Zoe _and_ her seraph. But eef someone else can distract ze seraph, zen I can defeat 'er."

"Hopefully it won't come to a fight," I said, twisting my hands into my skirts. "She doesn't actually know about the orphanage, does she?"

Astera shook her head. "No, she should not. And we have strong wards about this place...wards of which not even you, Ghallim, are aware." I caught my breath, remembering the worst years of the Plague and the safety I had felt within the orphanage. Astera would protect us, I thought with relief. Astera would make it right.

"As long as they don't search for us specifically, they won't find the orphanage," she continued. "Hopefully neither Thanos nor Thoren knows the true nature of the orphans."

Behind her back, Ynez and Ghallim both gave me hard stares, and I shook my head vehemently, stun by their distrust. Would I ever betray the children? How could they even suspect it of me? Maybe I'd lost my heart, but I certainly hadn't lost my mind!

"Mater," Ynez said tentatively, "Zoe said that they have tracked the source of the Plague to Athens. Is it true?"

Astera shook her head again. "I know nothing about the source of the Plague, but I do not believe that it is here. It is unfortunate that she thinks so, but...well, we will weather this. We will lie low. That is all we can do for now."

"And if she _does_ come here?" Ynez persisted.

"Then all the children, including Tel, and you, Marina, and you, Ghallim, will hide in the caves. It won't be easy...but it can be done."

I'd expected Ghallim-Ashton to object to hiding, but he was nodding his agreement. "Yes," he said thoughtfully, "zat does seem wisest."

"I do have an idea for a hunt for you," Astera added. "The mice must go out from time to time to hunt."

"But why?" I objected. "At a time like this? Surely it's safer for all of them to stay home."

"I know," she agreed, "but the gods must be among humans. It is simply in their nature, just as Zeus must fornicate." It was a measure of her preoccupation that she would say anything like that.

I choked on my own saliva and had a coughing fit, while Ynez squeaked and hid her scarlet face in her hands and very pointedly avoided looking in my direction. (That was an unfair assumption. Why did everyone assume that just because Thoren and I spent time together in private we were, er, reenacting the ways of Zeus and mortal women?) Chuckling at my chagrin, Ghallim pounded me merrily on the back until I could breathe again.

An awful thought occurred to Ynez. "Mater," she said, hunching her shoulders miserably. "Mater, the other Houses may have reason to search for us. There is something that — happened while you were resting, that we need to tell you."

"Yes?" asked Astera anxiously.

"Vanessa bani Bjornaer came here yesterday, to look for Adonis. And...and I killed her."

"Oh, child!" Astera hugged Ynez fiercely.

"I killed her," Ynez mumbled. "It was an accident. But I killed her."

Ghallim objected, "No, eet was ze bear zat killed 'er. Eet was not _you_ who did so. And was eet not in self-defense?"

Ynez shook her head. "I do not remember."

I wracked my brains for a moment, trying to reconstruct the sequence of events. Everything had happened so _fast_. Vanessa had tried to take Adonis...then I had thrown up a shield around us...then Adonis had run into it... "Vanessa attacked _me_ first," I said anxiously. "Ynez was protecting _me._ That has to count for something, right?"

"I killed her," Ynez repeated. "I murdered her."

Astera hugged her tighter. "Oh child! Vanessa was _not_ a good person."

At the same time, I protested, "There were — mitigating circumstances. I'm sure people will understand."

"Yes," Ghallim supported me. "Vanessa 'as been inciting gang warfare that 'as killed 'undreds of people, and creating abominations using Ars Animae, and abusing 'er own child. Zen when we rescued her child, she came 'ere to demand 'is return and attacked us. And anyway, eet was not _you_ who killed 'er. Eet was ze bear. I am sure we can find eyewitnesses."

Ynez muttered, "But it was _my_ bear. _I_ summoned it."

Astera stroked her hair and rocked her tenderly. "Ynez, the power that we wield can have terrible consequences…. Every mage must learn this. You are so young, so young to be so powerful... Hush, hush, it will be all right. It will be all right, child."

After Ynez had finally sobbed and then hiccuped herself into a trance-like state, Astera moved to lead her back to our bedroom. It really wasn't the right time for my question, but when would there ever be a good time? Lately it seemed that we lurched from one crisis to another with barely room to breathe before Astera had to work another powerful ritual whose backlash would incapacitate her.

"Astera," I said. "Wait. Mother." I hadn't called her that in years. When and why had I stopped? It just one more of all the holes in my memory.

She stopped. "Yes, Marina?" And in her voice were the tenderness and fondness that I remembered from my earliest childhood.

"Please — I have to know. _Which_ god did I bond with?" I wasn't even sure why it was so important. I had been whatever I was for the past ten years. Would putting a name to it change anything? Maybe. Maybe not. But my life had careened completely out of control, and maybe, just maybe, knowing what I was would form the tiniest tether back to normality.

Astera said, "You didn't bond with a god, Marina. But I promised you and it to keep its identity a secret."

Her words were a blow. "But it was ten years ago! I was only eight! I didn't know what I was asking!"

"That may be. Nevertheless, you were adamant, and a promise is a promise." And I knew I would get no more out of her. To Astera, promises were sacrosanct, and the closest she got to religion was her belief that they must be honored even unto death.

It was Ynez who opened a mind link to tell me, "I think Cly is Clio, the Muse of History."

The Muse of History! It all made so much sense! I'd always loved history — definitely Astera's fault for reading too much classical literature to an impressionable toddler — and what demigod could be more fitting than the Muse of History herself! Relief flooded over me and washed away my doubts and questions. I wasn't part lost-god. I wasn't going to wake up one morning to discover that I was a lynx with an insatiable urge to hunt, or a godling who could weaponize hugs, or something of that ilk. I was still Marina Cimon, librarian of House Criamon, aspiring historian. I was still _me_.

As Astera had said over and over to Ynez, it would be all right.

No, more than that — it _was_ all right.

* * *

While Ynez rested after her long vigil at the church, I called Thoren via the communications stone to warn him about Zoe. Not even his lack of response could dent my euphoria — I merely left a quick message to the effect of "Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor and the Spanish Inquisition are in town. Be careful." Then I floated off to the new library wing, tugging Ghallim after me _a la_ Helen. There I found Jamie with his arms full of parchment and his face split by a wide grin. "Hi Marina, Ghallim, Ashton! Ta-da!" he announced proudly. "I finished copying the scroll!" He shoved the parchment sheets at me and bounced up and down as I leafed through them.

"Very nice," I said appreciatively. "Thanks, Jamie."

"I couldn't read any of it though," he pouted, his pride slightly wounded by his ignorance.

I promised, "Don't worry — I'll teach you, Jamie. It's not _that_ different from modern Greek."

His face brightened. "Okay! But can you teach me later? Sy has the best game planned and I can't miss it!"

Ghallim and I both laughed. "Go, Jamie," I told him. "Ancient Greek has been around for thousands of years. It's not going to vanish overnight."

After _he'd_ vanished out the door, I gestured towards the stacks of scrolls and books and said, "Ghallim, can you do me a huge favor? Can you do an Ars Temporis ward on my library?"

A little surprised, he immediately assented. "Of course. Eet eez not difficult, but eet may take some time."

"That's all right," I replied cheerfully, waving around Jamie's copy of _On the History of the Magical Arts_. "I need to translate this into Latin anyway."

What I actually ended up doing, because I didn't have enough time to translate the entire treatise, was to find Sy and ask for Irene's books back so I could focus on the passages Cly had destroyed. What I probably should have expected, after living with Sy for countless years, was for him to blink innocently at me and ask, "Books? What books?"

My ebullience beginning to fade, I said anxiously, "You know, the ones I asked you to hide from Irene? The ones you made me believe were destroyed on Monday? They were about this big?" I gestured with my hands. "There were three of them?"

He squinched his eyes shut, pretending to wrack his memory. "No...I'm sorry Marina, I really don't remember any books."

"Sy! Please! This isn't funny!"

A look of wounded innocence. "But Marina, it's _not_ funny. I must be getting old. My memory is going." He did a hilarious impression of a doddering old man, but I wasn't laughing. "I really really don't remember any books."

Drawing a deep breath and counting silently to ten before I let it out again, I said in a controlled tone, "Okay. Well, Sy, if you _happen_ to find them somewhere, can you please let me know?"

He grinned impishly at me. "Of course! And _if_ I happen to find them, which I'm sure I won't because I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, which volume would you like?"

Which volume had contained a description of the Battle of Marathon? "The second one," I said at last.

He gave me another grin. "Okay! If I _happen_ to find it, I'll leave it on your bed. Because you helped Ashton."

Before he could disappear, I asked quickly, "Wait, Sy — which god are you?"

A gamine smile lit up his face, and in his figure I saw the echoes of millennia of mischievous street children. "I'm an urchin, of course. I lived in a city with a great port, and lots and lots of urchins. Ah, those were the days!" And then, like a street child evading the city watch, he was gone.

Shaking my head in amusement and despair, I returned to my room, where Volume Two of _De Historia Artium Magicarum_ was already waiting on my pillow. Oh, Sy! I took it back to the library, translated the requisite passages, and forged replacement pages. After Ghallim finished warding the library, he succumbed to my wheedling and used Ars Temporis to age the parchment, and then I carefully glued the new pages into Irene's book. Unless someone scrutinized it intently with Ars Vis, I felt confident that no one would notice the difference.

It was just in the nick of time, too, for a slam of the door heralded the arrival of the Ars Conjunctionis expert Irene had promised. A local recruit in her late twenties named Nitsa, she looked a little disdainful at the shabbiness of the new library wing, and although she was scrupulously polite as she warded the Hearth logs, I caught her casting sidelong glances at me — the exact same kind of appraising, not-entirely-friendly glance I'd been intercepting from the Bonisagi these past two days.

Finally, I could bear it no longer. "Nitsa, why do people keep looking at me that way?" I demanded. "I've been going to the Acropolis for years. I'm not exactly a new face."

She only shook her head and continued to trace runes over the scrolls. "I don't know what you're talking about, Adepta."

"This!" I cried in frustration. "The way — the way people act, as if they don't want to talk to me."

Nitsa didn't even dignify me with a look. "Perhaps it is because you're from a different House, and they do not know you well? Or perhaps they are too busy to chat, what with the Aegis collapsing? I'm sorry, Adepta, I have a lot of work too, and the sooner I can finish this warding, the sooner I can return to the Acropolis." The implication was clear: _Please stop talking to me. I'm not interested in conversation._

But I'd been visiting Leona and Irene at Hadrian's Library for so long, and while I hadn't exactly become friends with all the Bonisagi, I'd always been on nodding terms with them. There had never been this — this oddness that I felt from Nitsa. "Was it something I did?" I asked, only partially addressing her. "What changed?"

But she said nothing more.

* * *

After she had left, spending not a second longer in my company than was absolutely necessary, I sat alone on my desk, swinging my legs and chewing the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. Was this the beginning of the social ostracism Leona had predicted? Would it get much worse? How much worse could it get anyway?

Fortunately, I didn't have much time to brood, because Tel wandered into the room, back in human form and looking incredibly happy and well rested. All of his injuries had healed while he was a puppy, a development I noted with envy. Overnight, the bruises on my neck had darkened and spread until I looked like a hanged corpse, and the gashes kept scabbing over and ripping open again every time I moved. And the Pattern damage, of course, would take much longer to fade.

"Hey Marina!" Tel greeted me. "I've been told to summon you for lunch."

An interruption from my own thoughts was very welcome just then. I hopped off the desk with relief. "Coming!"

Over a delicious meal of bread and cheese — made all the tastier by the confidence that it was I, Marina, and not a forgotten nameless god who was savoring the flavors — Tel happily regaled us with tales from his day as a puppy. He'd been a very young dog, it seemed, and he hadn't been able to communicate with his parents. Still they'd sniffed and licked one another, and explored the orphanage together, and he'd stumbled around on his oversized puppy feet from one human to the next, getting picked up and hugged and petted. "It was the best day ever," he sighed contentedly. "So what about the rest of you? Did you also get to rest?"

There was an extremely awkward silence as Ynez, Ghallim, and I considered how to update him.

At last Ghallim spoke hesitantly, "Well, you see — "

"Oh no," Tel said, getting upset. "What happened? I can't believe stuff happened in _one_ day. Why didn't you all just stay here and rest?"

"We tried to, but trouble came here to find us — " Ynez began and Ghallim snorted, "After what 'as been 'appening zis past week, why would yesterday be any different?"

"What happened while I was a puppy?" asked Tel with trepidation. "Wait, Marina, do I want to know?"

To which the answer was certainly no. "Well," I hedged.

Ghallim saved me from coming up with an appropriate summary of the past day. "We will go on a great 'unt!" he proclaimed, gesturing grandly with a bread roll. "We will hunt all ze gods zemselves!"

"Wait, what? Ghallim, why are you acting like this? Marina, Ynez, what's wrong with him?"

Ynez sighed. "He's been like this since he got off the loom."

Something else had caught my attention. "Ghallim, what do you mean you want to hunt _all_ the gods? What about the mice?"

"Oh, I will 'unt zem too. Eventually." At my expression, he added, "Probably not for a long time."

That was not comforting! Ynez yelped in protest, and Tel asked in bewilderment, "What's going on here? I was gone for _one_ day, and now Ghallim is hunting the _children_? What happened? Marina!"

"But why?" I demanded of Ghallim. "Why do you want to hunt the gods?"

Ghallim-Ashton leaned across the table, eyes blazing with excitement. "For ze challenge of course! Ze gods are ze greatest challenge! Zey are crafty, and zey are powerful, and — "

I tossed aside the remainder of my cheese in disgust. (Timo, who'd been crouching under the table awaiting just such an eventuality, jumped up and snatched it midair.) "So you're like those aristocrats who hunt those poor foxes for _sport_?"

"Ah no, eet eez not ze same. For ze gods are worthy opponents!"

"Isn't that the same reason aristocrats hunt foxes? Because it's a worthy _challenge_?"

Something finally got through to him, because the fire in his eyes dimmed and he sat back. "Mmmm, I will think about what you 'ave said."

A hum filled the air, a soothing sort of buzz like a doorbell in the mind. All of us recognized Avaris' signature, an Ars Mentis Effect he used to alert people to his arrival. Ynez, who viewed him as a surrogate father, scrambled to the door to let him in. "Avaris!" she cried, and threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Avaris!"

Embracing her quickly and setting her back on her feet, the mayor looked at all of us gravely before he said, "I bring unfortunate tidings to House Criamon. Adonis bani Bjornaer has gone to House Bonisagus and made a formal accusation charging Ynez with the murder of his mother. Leona has called a session of the Areopagus to try the case. The guards are on their way now to arrest you, Ynez."


	10. Friday March 5, 1490

**Friday March 5, 1490**

The penalty for murder was death. That much I recalled from Cly's lengthy expositions on the history of Athenian law. But I also remembered that at times the gods would intervene, as when Athena voted to acquit Orestes of matricide, or the jurors would succumb to emotional appeal, as when the incomparable _hetaira_ Phryne bared her breasts during her impiety trial. But now we'd killed Athena, and Ynez would literally choose a death sentence over public nudity.

Also, Athens had long since outlawed stripping as a legal defense. Probably because it worked too well on the lecherous old men who served as our impartial jurors.

Tel was the first to react. His uneaten roll thumping to the floor from nerveless fingers, he exclaimed, "Wait, what happened yesterday? I was gone for _one day_! I come back and Vanessa's _dead_?"

Avaris looked steadily at Ynez. "It appears to be the case. Ynez, would you like to tell me your side of the story before the guards arrive?"

Poor Ynez shrank in on herself and addressed the floorboards in a tiny voice I could barely hear, "It's true. I killed her."

His face went even grimmer. "What happened?" he repeated Tel's question, but she opened and closed her mouth, then shook her head and stared at her shoes.

Ghallim, who'd also read Athenian law and knew about the death penalty, objected, "Eet was much more complicated zan zat. You see, zere was a bear, and eet was ze bear zat killed Vanessa. Not Ynez."

Avaris raised his eyebrows at his old comrade in rescue missions. "A bear, in Athens?" He might not have been a hunter or naturalist, but he did know enough about wildlife in Athens to know that, well, there wasn't any.

"Yes, zere are bears around Athens!" Ghallim elaborated. "Did you not know? Tel 'ere and Verrus bani Bjornaer went 'unting just Monday. Zere were _Plague_ bears nearby, not nice at all. Eet was most fortunate zat young Tel and 'is mentor took care of zem." And he shook his head sententiously, like an elder mourning the demise of morals among Athenian youth.

Perhaps we could have used random rampaging bears as an alibi — if Ynez had not spoken just then. "But it was my bear. I summoned it."

Casting Ars Essentiae to silence her had just become a highly attractive option. "Ynez! Don't say anything else before we find an advocate!" I protested. "Avaris, she's exhausted, she didn't sleep at all last night, she has no idea what she's saying…."

Ynez shot a very offended look at me, one that said, _Wow, thanks, Marina._

She _should_ thank me. _She_ was the non-citizen who would be tried for murder. And I couldn't even serve on the jury. In terms of legal rights, Athenian women commanded more respect than foreigners (although that wasn't saying much), but were nowhere near the equals of Athenian men, who received citizenship as their birthright. We women had to _prove_ ourselves to the Assembly first.

"I will serve as your advocate if you wish, Ynez," said Avaris. "But I do need you to tell me exactly what happened."

Ynez nodded vigorously, and Ghallim and I exchanged glances of wary relief. On the one hand, Avaris was the mayor of Athens and well respected, as well as a powerful Ars Mentis mage who could manipulate the jury if necessary. On the other hand, one of the (admittedly many) reasons he was so well respected was that he was _fair_. I didn't trust him to mind control the jury when it came to the vote.

"Maybe _we_ should tell you what happened," I suggested quickly, before Ynez could say anything more damaging.

Ghallim was nodding. "An excellent idea. You see," he said, turning to Avaris, "Vanessa arrived to remove 'er abused child — "

At the same time I said, "Vanessa attacked me! Look!" And I spun in a circle to show him the great gashes and purpling bruises that ringed my neck and ran across my collarbones. (Hmmm — Athenian law only forbade the _defendant_ to strip naked. It didn't say anything about the _witnesses_. I'd have done it if only I had the figure for it.)

"Hang on a sec," Tel interrupted, still trying to sort out the story. "Where's Adonis? And Vanessa attacked you too? Is that why Ynez killed her?"

"Ynez did not kill 'er. Eet was ze bear zat killed 'er, as we keep telling you! And Adonis eez now with ze Reds. 'E 'as shaved 'is 'ead and tattooed a skull on eet."

"Whaaaat?" Ynez and Tel yelled. Right — Sy _had_ mentioned that earlier, but I'd been too preoccupied by the _Historia_. Anyway, at the moment, rehabilitating a misguided young mage who'd brought murder charges against our House seemed like the least of our worries. It was all the way at the very bottom of an entire orphanage's worth of worries.

A man of lesser forebearance might have given us up for a lost cause, but Avaris was either bolstered by his Buddhist training or, more likely, accustomed to the _liveliness_ of House Criamon. He said with emphatic patience, "Can we start at the beginning and describe the events in chronological order? That may be more helpful."

Astera arrived then, out of breath. "Avaris, welcome back! I detected your arrival." Sensing the odd atmosphere in the dining room, she asked suspiciously, "What's going on here? Did Sy steal your prayer beads again? That boy! I keep telling him that he needs to respect other faiths!" As well tell the God of Street Urchins to sit in a library and read quietly.

Avaris bowed to her and explained courteously, "I'm afraid it is not a matter of prayer beads. Leona bani Bonisagus has summoned the Areopagus to try Ynez for murder."

His news silenced Astera for only one moment before she exploded, "That is preposterous! Ynez committed no murder! This is a power play by House Bonisagus to take over the Hearth!"

I hadn't even considered it from that angle. Would House Bonisagus do something like that? Would Thoren? No, I didn't believe of him or of Leona. They were both stubborn, pragmatic people, but they followed certain codes of honor. While there was a limit to how well you got to know someone if you mostly traded books and favors, I was sure Leona would never condemn a fourteen-year-old girl to death as part of Hermetic politics. She mentored young female mages, didn't she? Wasn't that why she'd given me that lecture about Thoren and social convention?

"Be that as it may," Avaris said diplomatically, "I have agreed to serve as Ynez's advocate, and I am trying to get the full story from the, er, eyewitnesses." To his credit, he only stressed "trying" slightly.

Knowing us only too well, Astera gave all of us a quelling look. "Ynez, please tell him the entire sequence of events. From the beginning." When Ghallim, Tel, and I opened our mouths, she ordered, "Just Ynez." We shut them again, a little mutinously.

Left to her own devices, Ynez actually gave a coherent, factual account of our activities, starting from the apothecary and gangs, and ending with our attempt to protect Adonis. "And then she attacked Marina," she concluded miserably. I pointed at my neck again meaningfully. "And I — I lost control."

With a very un-lawyerly gesture, Avaris hugged her tightly. "Oh, Ynez," he said, sounding very much like Astera the day before. "Vanessa was _not_ a nice person." If only that were a valid legal defense — that she had actually benefitted Athens and the Order of Hermes by removing a particularly noxious mage! "Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to remind you of the Four Noble Truths: pain, the origin of pain, the end of pain, and the path leading to the end of pain. Life is full of suffering, but it _is_ possible to transcend it."

Ynez nodded along in agreement, to my mild surprise. Perhaps the Catholic Church was more accepting of Buddhist precepts than I'd realized. Although, honestly, I couldn't see Zoe being accepting of _anything_.

"Well," he sighed at last. "The guards will arrive soon, and it would be much — _better_ if Ynez shows up at the Areopagus of her own free will than if she is brought by them…."

"The trial is now?" I asked with more than a little alarm. "But there's no time to prepare a proper defense!"

He shook his head. "Leona was insistent that the accused presents an active danger to the city and that the trial take place at once. As the one who convened the Areopagus, she has that right."

"But — " I said, trying to remember the intricacies of the law. "But there is precedent — the accuser can agree to delay the trial."

"Yes," he agreed. "That is possible — but unlikely."

"But — " I tried to think. "But she is the Secunda of House Bonisagus, not the Primus. If — if Magister Thoren agrees to delay the trial, would that be enough?"

"Marina!" Ynez hissed. "You don't have to do this!"

Avaris still looked doubtful. "Perhaps, _if_ he can prevail upon her to delay it."

Ynez tugged at my sleeve. "Marina! I would never ask you to do this!"

"It's all right," I reassured her. "Let me try anyway."

Ghallim made no comment, but I could hear Tel asking urgently, "Why is Marina asking Thoren for help? Is that a good idea? How does she know him anyway?"

"Because she's — " Ynez stopped abruptly. "Because she's taking lessons from him!"

A little self-consciously, I activated the communications stone and called Thoren. Naturally, at this crucial juncture, he didn't answer. He _never_ answered when I needed him! But I left a message anyway, in case he heard it before Leona set out for the court. "Thoren, Leona has summoned the Areopagus to try Ynez for murder. Can you — can you please — get her to delay it? Just so we have some time to prepare?" My voice trailed off uncertainly, and I clicked the stone back off and shook my head somberly at Ynez.

She drew a deep breath — I couldn't tell if she were more disappointed or relieved that Thoren would not be her savior this day. "Thank you for trying," she said sincerely. "I would never have asked it of you."

I nodded. "I know."

Ghallim wasn't through arguing yet. "Wait — but all ze inciters of gang warfare aren't tried, and zey 'ave caused so many more deaths. Believe me, I know zis."

"As do I," Avaris agreed. "But the sad truth of the matter is that most of the gang members aren't Athenian. And, for better or for worse, Vanessa was."

"Ynez is barely fourteen!" I pleaded, having no better arguments.

"That does not matter to the law. Come, Ynez, we really do not have much time before the guards arrive, and I fear that they will not be...gentle."

Astera moved regally towards the door. "House Criamon, of course, will be there to support Ynez," she said haughtily.

"I expected no less," Avaris told her mildly.

* * *

Just to add injury to injury — literally, I stubbed my toe on the way over — the Areopagus was to the northwest of the Acropolis, not too far from House Bonisagus, but a significant trek for us. Although I still ached all over from accumulated injuries, Avaris and Astera insisted that we walk the entire way. Apparently transportation by wind disk was too flamboyant and hence too likely to offend the predominantly Sleeper jury, not to mention the Bonisagi who were our accusers. Avaris courteously allowed for the possibility that my exuberantly purple bruises might justify my _personal_ use of vulgar magic, but Astera unsympathetically informed me that while I was in no danger of dying from flesh wounds, a Paradox backlash would finish me off. And so I walked, the jostle every time my foot hit cobblestone thrusting hot needles through my head.

Sy could just keep the entire _Historia._ Irene could skin Leona alive.

When we finally arrived at the top of great rock outcropping and entered the courthouse (rock, building, and court were all creatively named the Areopagus), we found it packed with hundreds of jurors. The roar of voices felt like a physical assault. Adonis and his shaved head were nowhere in sight, but at the front of the room, Leona waited with a mountain of pots, which she would smash to use as the _ostraka_ for voting. They were the sort we'd seen in Vanessa's apothecary. In fact, they _were_ Vanessa's pots. How...poetic?

"How many people are here?" Ynez whispered, shrinking against Avaris, who draped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Five hundred and one," he told us in a low voice. That meant Leona was pressing a _graphe_ , a suit of public interest. I'd hoped that she had opted for a _dike_ , a private suit as befitting a dispute between two Hermetic Houses, with only two hundred jurors. Five hundred and one was an intimidating number. "She wanted a thousand, since she believes that this case has special significance for the city, but I convinced her that it would take far too long to select and summon that many citizens."

"Five hundred and two," I told Avaris defiantly. "I'm going to apply for citizenship."

He raised his eyebrows. "Child, one vote more or less will hardly affect the outcome of this trial."

But I set my mouth stubbornly. "Be that as it may, I want to vote. Tel can charm — I mean, _persuade_ the court to grant me citizenship."

Avaris appeared to decide that this battle was not worth picking and simply led us towards the presiding judge. Who was Tiberius. Did he remember us from a few nights ago, when Ghallim had stabbed him and then saved his life? What would he remember?

From his glare, the stabbing part. This did not bode well for us.

But Avaris serenely guided us up to the lectern and respectfully announced us. With forced politeness in the mayor's presence, Tiberius informed us that the current options for the vote were execution (I squeaked), ostracism (Astera fumed), a hefty fine (Ghallim growled), and innocence (Tel grinned).

"Tel," I whispered, "maybe you can make a moving speech."

"Maybe?" he whispered back. "How does this trial thing work again?"

I was about to explain, but just then Leona's loud voice carried over the din of the crowd. To a semicircle of Bonisagi Adepti, she was saying passionately, "We cannot allow the murder of any Adeptus Maior of any House — " The rumble of voices drowned out the rest of her sentence, but I glared at the side of her face anyway. It might have been a valid point, but she didn't have to make it on Ynez's head.

Tiberius banged his gavel and shouted for silence until all the jurors had settled down on the marble benches and were staring at him like attentive schoolchildren. A few even pulled out parchment to take notes. "Order! Order in the Areopagus! Now, this trial will — "

At my nod, Tel swept gracefully up to the lectern and lounged against it as if presenting himself for the delectation of the crowd and any watching gods. I swear I heard longing sighs from most of the jurors. Not only the female jurors. "Wait, wait, wait," he said, showering beatific smiles in all directions. "Assemblyman Tiberius — "

" _Your Honor_ ," I hissed.

" — Your Honor," he corrected himself with a conciliating gesture of his hands, "before we begin, I would like to move for a vote granting citizenship to Marina Cimon bani Criamon. She is, after all, a mage of the sixth degree." He smiled upon the jury as if it were the most normal request in the world.

There was some soft mumbling about the awkwardness of the timing, and the irregularity of his motion. Technically, a quorum of six thousand eligible Athenians (mostly men, but including a handful of high-ranked female mages) was required to grant citizenship to any individual, although there were a few historical exceptions.

"It is unconscionable that an Athenian of her intelligence and ability should be excluded from critical decisions concerning the governance of our beautiful city! Athens will only benefit from her voice in votes on crucial matters such as this." Another smile for the judge. "I realize this is perhaps not the most usual time to make such a request, but there is some precedent for it — "

I hastily mouthed a few relevant cases to him.

" — such as in 1458, when the illustrious Helena of the Serene Melody was awarded citizenship in the face of attack on the city so she could guide our forefathers to victory. And, of course, the Law of Akilinos from the first century BC states clearly that — "

"Yes, yes," said Tiberius in a slightly dazed manner. He blinked a few times. "I approve the motion and bring it to a vote. Is there anyone present who _opposes_ this reasonable request to grant full citizenship to Marina Cimon bani Criamon?"

There was some shaking of heads, but most of the jurors were too busy ogling Tel to react. He shifted slightly to display his physique to full effect.

Tiberius banged his gavel. "Then on this fifth day of March in the year one thousand four hundred ninety, I confer upon Marina Cimon bani Criamon the rights, responsibilities, and privileges of full Athenian citizenship. Welcome, and may you wield them to the glory of our city."

I made a little bow with my head. "Thank you, your Honor," I said formally. Then I couldn't resist giving Leona a sidelong smirk. She didn't notice. She was staring consideringly — not covetously — at Tel, as if a poet had introduced a new character into a play and she weren't certain of his purpose yet.

Tel, for his part, flashed a triumphant grin in my direction as he sashayed back to us, and I choked down a giggle. Maybe we could have _him_ disrobe as part of the defense. It would certainly be more effective than Ynez or me stripping naked!

" _Now_ , if there are no further requests, let us commence with the trial of one Ynez Moo — Moo-ree-lio — " Ynez rebelliously muttered " _Murillo_ " under her breath — "bani Criamon. This is the accusation brought before the court by Magistra Scholae Leona bani Bonisagus —" so Leona had been promoted! But did that change anything for us? — "the murder of Adepta Maior Vanessa bani Bjornaer, in the presence of witnesses including her nine-year-old son Adonis bani Bjornaer."

There were some murmurs of horrified pity from the jury. If only Adonis were here, with his Red skull tattoo, to appall them instead!

"'E eez biasing ze jury," Ghallim muttered.

"Adepta Maior Ynez Moo-ree-lio bani Criamon, how do you plead?"

Ynez looked utterly terrified and shrank even further into Avaris' side, eliciting some expressions of sympathy from the crowd. After all, she wasn't that much older than Adonis, and she was _tiny_. Beside the mayor, she resembled a forlorn orphan child in need of a good home and a good meal. "Your Honor," she whispered, "I believe Magister Avaris has agreed to act as my advocate."

With perfect timing, Avaris tenderly disengaged himself from his charge and, putting a protective, paternal hand on her shoulder, drew her forward until they stood directly before the lectern. "Your Honor," he said firmly and confidently, "Vanessa's death was most unfortunate, but the circumstances surrounding the incident were a tragic accident." I detected a subtle Ars Mentis Effect that he was weaving over judge and jury. Good for him!

Unaffected by Avaris' spell and unafflicted by virtues such as compassion or mercy, Leona strode forward and declared loudly, "I was a friend of Vanessa's from our time together in House Bjornaer, before I transferred to House Bonisagus to assist with the building and maintenance of the Aegis." That was a smart move — to remind the jury of their dependence on her for protection against the Plague. But was it a play for gratitude, or a veiled threat? I couldn't tell. Maybe that was the point. "I have sympathy for the defendant due to her age, but the fact remains that we cannot allow the murder of _any_ Adeptus Maior to go unpunished, whatever the laws of Athens say — although in this case they are clear enough. For if the death of one high-ranking mage at the hands of another goes unaddressed, Hermetic society will devolve into chaos. House Criamon has demonstrated its inability to train its charges to wield powerful magic with _control_ , thereby putting everyone in this city at risk." Murmurs of assent rose from the back of the jury (the ones who couldn't see Tel as well and weren't busy devouring him with their eyes). "However, given the considerations of the defendant's age and the deficiencies in her education, I recommend ostracism rather than execution."

Ynez squeaked and nearly fainted. Avaris held her up when her knees buckled, taking care that he should be seen to do so. Very nicely played. The parents in the audience — er, jury — softened slightly at the display.

Astera boomed at Leona, "House Criamon, which you so criticize, has shielded the Hearth for hundreds of years! We are the _reason_ Athens still stands, and we will not tolerate Ynez's ostracism just because we are a small House and hence at a disadvantage in Hermetic politics. The death of one mage at the hands of another is by no means unprecedented. I insist that we explore other avenues!"

There was nodding from the jury, and Leona looked sour.

One juror — who, if I recalled correctly, was the friend of an orphan who'd grown up and left the orphanage fully human — called out, "It's true! House Criamon has been in Athens for nearly half a millennium! Why should we abet the political machinations of House Bonisagus, which immigrated from Norway barely five years ago?" He made "Norway" sound like an epithet, and I felt a stab of resentment on Thoren's behalf.

Another juror stood up and shouted back, "You fool! Mage politics is not what is at stake here! If mages are permitted to slaughter one another with impunity, then what of us normal, everyday citizens? What kind of precedent are we setting for when a mage murders a Sleeper?"

"Is it acceptable for _us_ to kill simply because we have lost control?" howled a third from the back of the court. "No? Then why should it be any different for _them_? They should be bound by the same laws!"

"This is clearly a setup by one House to take down another!" yet another juror yelled from the second row, and basked in the caress of Tel's approving smile. "Using a mere child as a pawn is despicable!"

"The law clearly states — "

"Maybe it's time to revisit the law!"

"We should just execute everyone who breaks any law! That would deter wrongdoers — "

And thus the reasoned legal debate of the five hundred and one eminent jurors of Athens devolved into one massive shouting match, while Tiberius banged his gavel futilely and yelled for silence. Amidst the chaos, Avaris resembled a connoisseur running a sip of fine wine over his tongue, gauging the subtle flavors of the jurors' moods and inclinations.

One voice suddenly rose above the din. "Hey! Wait! Didn't he mention a fine?"

Others took up the call. "Hey, Tiberius! I mean, your Honor! What did you say about a fine?"

Tiberius nearly splintered his gavel with his pounding. "Order! Order in the Areopagus!" When the jurors' roar had finally subsided into a dull rumble, he glared impartially at everyone and stated with emphasis, "To answer the juror's question, _yes_. As I _said_ , a hefty fine is one of the options. That is, _if_ Leona bani Bonisagus is willing to accept it."

Leona and her supporters, a fair portion of House Bonisagus (but not Irene, I noticed with relief) plus the stray Bjornaer mages who had not been frozen in the Tower of the Winds, hissed at his words. For an awful moment, I thought she would reject it outright and force a vote on ostracism (innocence was barely possible given that Ynez had foolishly admitted her guilt). But then Avaris cleared his throat and made a convincing argument that we should let the Athenian citizenry, as represented in the persons of the five hundred odd jurors, decide on an appropriate punishment for a child's terrible mistake. I was impressed by his speech — he didn't even need to resort to Ars Mentis to persuade the jurors, and their agreement forced Tiberius to compel Leona to accept the option. (Well, fine, it was her legal right to refuse, but it wouldn't have been a wise political move, and Leona was nothing if not astute.)

"Very well then. I shall leave it to the wisdom of the people of Athens," she finally said grudgingly, her tone making it clear that she had no faith whatsoever in the democratic process. What a patriot. "One hundred thousand drachmas. That is the fine House Bonisagus deems acceptable."

One hundred thousand drachmas! Where would House Criamon ever get that much money? Even if we went to all the banks in Athens, we couldn't scrape together such an amount!

"That's preposterous," said Astera furiously. "That fine is utterly absurd and unprecedented!"

Leona shot back fiercely, "It is also absurd and unprecedented that a murder should be punished only by a fine!"

Ghallim turned to me, and without bothering to lower his voice, suggested, "We could impose a tax on ze usage of ze 'Earth. Just for 'Ouse Bonisagus, perhaps. Say, a single-time usage fee of one 'undred thousand drachmas."

"Why haven't we been charging for the Hearth all along?" I asked Astera furiously, but she shushed me.

"This is a blatant attempt by House Bonisagus to reduce House Criamon to debt slavery!" she declared to the court.

Leona was unimpressed by the accusation. "Then let us go over the sequence of events that led to Vanessa's death, shall we? Ynez, will you tell the court what happened?"

 _I'd_ have gagged Ynez, but Avaris nodded at her, and she said in a small voice that the jurors strained to catch, "Vanessa came to the orphanage to demand we return her son. A — a fight started, and then I manifested my wrath as a bear, and it — it killed her. I didn't mean for it to happen!" she protested, raising her voice over the murmurs.

I quickly interceded. "Leona, I mean Magistra Leona, Ynez acted to protect _me_. If you wish to blame anyone for how the fight started, _I_ was the one who threw up a shield first."

Ghallim put in, "Yes, zat eez ze truth. And ze child — who wished to return to 'is abusive mother, why I do not understand — ran into eet and was injured."

"Then Vanessa attacked me." I gestured at my neck and slowly rotated in a circle to show the jurors the extent of my wounds, eliciting some gasps of sympathy. "And Ynez defended me."

Leona's voice was like ice. "And should we add kidnapping to the list of crimes your House has committed?"

Ynez looked up appealingly at Tiberius. "Your Honor, is it not illegal to add charges once a trial has started?"

At the same time, Ghallim exclaimed, "We did not kidnap 'im! We rescued 'im from gang warfare! Eez eet illegal now to rescue small children from ze middle of gang warfare? 'Is mother was selling leeches to ze Reds, abominations — you should 'ave seen zem — "

The leeches or the Reds or both? "Ask Georgios bani Bonisagus about the leeches if you don't believe us," I quickly added, earning another glare from Leona.

"Eet was obvious zat ze apothecary was no place for a small child. Eet was no place for anyone! Eez eet now considered kidnapping to rescue a child from certain death?"

More shouting from the jurors, who held definite views on foreign elements destroying Athenian public safety. Tiberius smashed his gavel on the lectern again (I was starting to suspect that it was strengthened by Ars Materiae). "Order! I will have order in this courtroom! Leona bani Bonisagus, the defendant is correct in saying that you cannot add more charges once the trial begins. If you wish, you may call an _additional_ trial, but right now, we will focus on the matter at hand." Despite myself, I was starting to like Tiberius. He was pompous and arrogant and rude, but he did seem fair. "Now — it appears that the options are ostracism and a fine, since the accused has admitted her guilt."

"Your Honor!" I protested. "She's _fourteen_! She's traumatized! She doesn't know what she's saying!"

"Mariiina!" Ynez hissed.

"The defendant has very clearly proclaimed her guilt to the Areopagus," Tiberius pointed out. "She definitely stated that it was _her_ bear that killed Vanessa. And her advocate has made no attempt to suggest otherwise."

"She's Catholic!" I cried. "She's guilty about everything!"

" _Thanks_ , Marina," Ynez muttered sarcastically.

But at my words, a tall, colorful figure rose at the back of the courtroom. Zoe Medina bani Quaesitor, her violet-winged seraph hovering overhead, strode very deliberately to the front of the room, casting an Artes Mentis and Essentiae Effect. Avaris' lips tightened as he watched.

In a clear, cold voice that carried throughout the Areopagus, she declared, "I do not know why Athens is so concerned by the death of a witch. The Gospels state explicitly that we should not suffer a witch to live, and by all accounts, this Vanessa was one of the worst variety. The world is well rid of her type." The jurors watched her progress to the lectern with rapt attention. Coming to a halt beside Ynez, Zoe continued, "Ynez Murillo is a devout Catholic, and her actions are sanctioned by God. Keep in mind, O Areopagus, that although the _citizens_ tend towards paganism and have disenfranchised the true believers, overall Athens is a Christian city. Be forewarned that if the Areopagus dares deny the sanctity of Ynez's actions, there will be riots and the people you claim to represent will demolish this very building. Think cautiously before you cast your vote, _citizens_."

Avaris strained to countermagic her Effect, but the damage was done, and the jury erupted into another passionate shouting match. Eventually Tiberius, by dint of years of practice in the Assembly, restored some semblance of order, but Tel quickly upset all the proceedings again by shouting, "Vanessa tried to murder me! She was a witch!" And he flattened his shirt against his side, splaying out his fingers to demonstrate the extent of his injuries. As the fabric pulled taut across his torso, outlining his muscles, the jurors gasped and then shouted their outrage that anyone would desecrate such a gift from the gods. I didn't think Tel was even aware of the desire he was provoking — which only added to his charm. Phryne herself could not have done better.

This time Tiberus actually did crack his gavel before he succeeded in calming the crowd. "Fine! We will add the option of 'innocence' to the vote! The choices are ostracism, fine, and innocence." As thanks, I surreptitiously glued the gavel back together with Ars Essentiae. He paused for a brief, puzzled moment to frown at it before pounding it anew. "Now form up into lines. Orderly lines!"

Preparing the _ostraka_ , Leona wielded Ars Essentiae like a sledgehammer and smashed Vanessa's pots with rather more vehemence than was necessary. She reserved the three largest ones, which she inscribed with the choices and placed on a table at the front of the room. Then she ordered her minions to circulate through the crowd, distributing shards of pottery. Each juror was supposed to stand in one of three nice, tidy lines and drop his (or occasionally her) shard into the appropriate pot. Naturally, over five hundred people milling about in an enclosed space created quite an opportunity for chaos, and as soon as I'd cast my vote, I began composing poetry about heroic Athenian statesmen to "guide" people into the "innocence" line.

A stern-faced Avaris materialized in front of me and squeezed my shoulder so hard that I yelped. He could have tried harder to avoid the bruises! Still, I glared at him and finished my poem, and he failed to entirely unravel my Ars Fati influence. "Ynez," he sighed, relaxing his grip at last. "Talk some sense into her, will you? This is utterly inappropriate."

"Marina," Ynez began. "You really don't have to — "

I didn't give her a chance to finish. Channeling my inner Sy and making an entire production of rubbing my shoulder, I protested piteously, "Is my poetry _that_ bad? I always thought you _liked_ it! And here I was planning to write it all down for you for your nameday! I'm hurt, really I am." And I struck a dramatic hand to my chest (oops, ouch) and gave her my best wounded expression.

She rolled her eyes heavenward.

In the end, though, Tel and Zoe were more effective than I at swaying votes. Tel lounged by the "innocence" pot, his shirt not _entirely_ buttoned up all the way, showing a _little_ more collarbone than was technically appropriate for a courtroom. "It's been a hard day!" he called into the seething mass of jurors. "Let's all go get drinks after this! Drinks are on me!" There was some laughter, and a few people switched lines, if only to ogle him more effectively. Meanwhile, Zoe sat at the back of the courtroom, illuminated by the lavender glow of her seraph, and glowered threateningly at anyone who dared join the "ostracism" line. This, unfortunately, deterred none of the Bonisagi or Bjornaer mages. Was I going to have words with Thoren! His Secunda's actions were utterly unacceptable.

Unfortunately, for all Tel's and my efforts, very few jurors voted for innocence since, as Tiberius had pointed out, Ynez _had_ killed Vanessa. But an overwhelming majority chose a fine, which was probably the best outcome we could have expected under the circumstances — although one hundred thousand drachmas? How did the debt servitude of one Hermetic House to another even work?

When Tiberius' assistants finally finished their tally and whispered the results to him, he ordered all the jurors to sit back down and announced, "The Areopagus has voted to impose a fine of one hundred thousand drachmas on Ynez Mooreelio bani Criamon."

"What! We're definitely levying fees for Hearth usage," I said furiously to Ghallim.

He nodded. "Agreed. Or we could trigger massive inflation."

Just as Tiberius was on the verge of concluding the trial, Zoe stood abruptly and stormed to the front in a riot of colorful skirts. "The Church will pay the fine," she proclaimed loftily, placing a possessive hand on Ynez's back.

After a stunned silence, Tiberius nodded curtly. "That is not the concern of the Areopagus. House Criamon, House Bonisagus, and the Catholic Church will make arrangements among themselves for the payment of the fine. Now, if there are no more interruptions, this session is dismissed!"

At once, the courtroom dissolved into a rumble of voices as jurors gathered up their belongings and called out to friends or argued with neighbors. Some of them (mostly men from the merchant class who could afford to support an impoverished but incredibly beautiful young lover) drifted towards Tel, calling out suggestions for bars and bickering amiably over which establishments served the best ale. Ghallim frowned at them and said _sotto voce_ to Tel, "We should take zem to an awful part of town, impress upon zem ze perils of gang warfare. Since no one seems to care about lives lost as long as zey are not _Athenian_ lives."

Tel shrugged and whispered back, "That's fine. Take them wherever you want. I'm not in a drinking mood."

"You will need to come at least partway, since zey want to get drinks with _you_."

Tel only shrugged again, a preoccupied expression on his face.

Since Astera had dragged Avaris to a side for a fiercely whispered discussion, I looked up at Zoe and said in my best representative-of-House-Criamon voice, "Thank you so much for helping Ynez." Well, maybe it came out more worried-sister than mature-adult.

She inclined her head graciously. Up close, she looked a lot younger than her demeanor suggested — she was probably only my age.

"Yes," said Ynez, finding her tongue and her manners at last. "Thank you for your intervention, Soror Zoe. But — it is so much money. I couldn't ask you to — "

Zoe cut her off with a pet on the shoulder. "It is nothing. We would do the same for any Catholic. The Inquisition's resources are more than sufficient for a petty fine."

"Are — are you sure?"

"Yes. I am pleased to see you so high in the Order of Hermes. It is not often that you find a Catholic near the top of the hierarchy."

I hastily put in, "Yes, Ynez is very Catholic. She spent all night at church after — what happened."

Zoe gave Ynez an approving smile. "Your family would have been proud of you, Ynez. _I_ am proud of you. Together we will bring this city into the light. It's already predominantly Christian, apart from a handful of native pagans, although it's mostly Greek Orthodox...well, I'll work with what we have."

"Where — where are you staying?" Ynez asked timidly.

"At the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea, of course."

Trust the Spanish Inquisition to commandeer the largest church in Athens. Fleetingly I wondered what the Blues would do now that Father Emmanuel had been lobotomized, but I guessed that they would happily follow Zoe's lead. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" their leader had shouted at Vanessa at the apothecary, and Zoe certainly seemed like the burn-them-at-the-stake type. Fortunately, it was not my problem.

* * *

By the time we got home, night had fallen and Ynez collapsed into bed immediately. Tel returned shortly thereafter, having slipped away from the unsuspecting band of revelers Ghallim was leading into a gang-ravaged neighborhood. From my perch on the doorstep of the new library wing, where I was half-heartedly skimming an Ars Vis textbook by lamplight, I watched Tel slouch into the yard. Two sleek forms detached themselves from the shadows to flow over to him, and he knelt to greet his parents. Not wanting to intrude, I quietly laid aside my book, resettled the lamp so it illuminated my face, and waited patiently.

When Tel at last lifted his head, the glow of my lamp caught his eye, and he led his parents over to me. Hope and fear flickered over his features, although maybe that was only the firelight. "Marina," he said, "I still can't talk to them. Can you help me change them back?"

He held the lamp in a shaking hand, scattering the light around us while I scanned the two dogs with Ars Vis. For all my years of research, I was still no closer to understanding the entirety of the Effect upon them — it felt like entering a theater halfway through a play and inferring the events of Act One from the dialogue in Act Two. You could never be sure what you had misunderstood or missed, and you could never appreciate the full drama. As I groped at the outlines of the Effect, I thought I glimpsed snatches of its underlying structure, but I couldn't be certain. At last, I sat back and shook my head. "If we tried it ourselves, we _might_ be able to change them back, but the transformation would kill them. We need someone with a fourth rank in Ars Animae." Someone like the Bjornaer experts I'd frozen in the Tower of the Winds, but Tel was generous enough not to mention it. "I'm sorry, Tel."

His shoulders sagged, and he heaved a long sigh. "It's all right. I'll ask Verrus when he wakes. Night, Marina."

And I watched him disappear into the night with his parents at his side.


	11. Saturday March 6, 1490

**Saturday March 6, 1490**

The next morning I was at the Acropolis banging on Thoren's door right at the crack of dawn. I had _words_ for him. Even if he hadn't personally brought charges against Ynez, even if he himself hadn't pressed for her ostracism, he was still the Primus of House Bonisagus and as such bore ultimate responsibility for his subordinates' actions. Through his silence, he condoned Leona's tactics and lent implicit support to her attack, and that was unacceptable.

An unsuspecting Thoren opened his door and greeted me with a genuine smile, saying in a surprisingly cheerful voice, "Marina! Good, you're here on time." And did he think Astera had never taught me to read a clock? His reference to my past tardiness did nothing to appease me. "Let's get to the matter at hand, and then I think we'll have some time afterwards to — "

He deserved no greeting. I shouldered my way past him and stomped into his workroom, not even waiting for him to close the door before I enunciated icily, "Yes. 'The matter at hand.' By all means, let's talk about the matter at hand — how _your_ Secunda tried to get _my_ Secunda ostracized despite mitigating circumstances. And now — "

Thoren had his back to me as he shut the door very securely and bolted it, but I heard him sigh and saw him run a hand through his hair, and a small corner of my mind marveled that he hadn't lost his temper yet. Submissiveness was not a trait commonly associated with Thoren bani Bonisagus. But he approached me cautiously and pointed out with preternatural calm, "Marina, you know very well that Athenians don't care about mitigating circumstances in murder trials."

"Yes, but she didn't have to call the Areopagus! And now we're indebted to Zoe! A hundred thousand drachmas? How could you let Leona do that to us?"

"I wasn't at all involved," he observed. "I wasn't even aware of her plans. I spent the entire day working with a team to stabilize the Aegis." It must have gone well, if he were in such a peaceful mood. "And anyway, now the Inquisition is one hundred thousand drachmas poorer. Isn't that a good thing?"

"No! They have too much money to care! And now we're indebted to them, and that's not going to be good for anyone!"

He sighed again, bit back his instinctive reaction (probably to order me to stop acting like a petulant child), and reached out for me instead. I backed away mutinously, and he let his hand drop. "All right, Marina, I'll speak to Leona and have her run such things by me first in the future. Is that acceptable?"

I sighed too. Although I was still angry, it wasn't fair to scapegoat him — and, more to the point, it was unsatisfying to fight with someone who refused to fight back. I could always find Leona and scream at her later. "Yes, that is acceptable," I acquiesced grudgingly.

"Good. Then have a seat, and tell me what you observed of the Quaesitor's seraph yesterday. It should have been a prime — " he smirked at the pun on the non-Hermetic name for the Sphere, and I groaned and rolled my eyes — "opportunity to practice Ars Vis."

For the lesson, he had me run through what I had sensed magically in the church and at the Areopagus — which was woefully little, and not just because I'd been distracted by impending disaster — and then explained with marvellous patience how I could have sharpened my Ars Vis scan and what I should have focused on. He did lecture me on how mages needed to be able to regulate their emotions and concentrate on their magic even under dire conditions, but his heart wasn't in the scolding. Maybe the purple, blue, green, and yellow bruises around my neck, which were as colorful as Zoe's dresses, and the way I kept pressing my fingers to my temples convinced him of mitigating circumstances.

"Well," he said at last, shoving his chair back from his desk, "that's enough Ars Vis for today, and fortunately I still have some time before my next meeting. My bedchamber is just through that door. Shall we?" And he held out his hand to me.

Leona's warning rang in my head: Do you have what it takes to defy all of society, to hold your head high when people call you _porna_? She didn't think I had it in me, she who had known the great _hetairai_.

Nor was I certain that I did — how could you know such a thing in advance? — but who was to say that I _didn't_ , I who was bound to one of the Muses herself? And who was to say that I would be happier if I sacrificed my and Thoren's feelings, call it love if you would, on the altar of convention? Astera would never cast me out of House Criamon, I knew, no matter the social repercussions, and I was eighteen and confident in the manner of the young.

I took his hand and let him sweep me up and carry me through the door.

* * *

Later, snuggling contentedly against his shoulder, I did broach the topic. I hadn't meant to spoil the moment, but as he toyed with my hair and wound it through his fingers, I blurted out, "Ynez wants to know if your intentions are honorable."

The silence dragged on as he considered my words. I felt as if I'd stopped breathing and might never draw another breath until he answered. "Are my intentions honorable?" he said finally. "I presume that's a polite way of asking if I contemplate marriage with you?"

I couldn't speak. I still couldn't breathe. Marriage? Was that — but yes, that was what the question meant, wasn't it? And eighteen wasn't too young to marry, but — it was all so fast. "I don't know," I whispered at last, burying my face in his chest.

With a gentle finger, he tipped up my chin, taking care to avoid where Vanessa's thorns had torn open my flesh. I darted a glance at his face before studying the wall intently. "Marina," he said seriously. "What have you heard?" When I only shook my head and refused to meet his eyes, he guessed, "Some of the Athenians have been harping at you, haven't they?" Furious as I was at Leona, I kept my silence. She had not acted (only) out of anger; I believed that she truly felt that condoning the death of a high-ranking mage set a dangerous precedent. "Perhaps I should have thought of this earlier," Thoren mused. "But I am Scandinavian, not Athenian, and from what I've learned in these five years here, our concepts of honor aren't at all related." He cupped my cheek and said firmly, "There is _nothing_ dishonorable about our relationship. To think so is ridiculous, whatever the local standards, and I will tell that to anyone who dares suggest otherwise."

 _Would he really say that to his own Secunda?_ I wondered. But I already knew that the answer was yes. He'd tell that to her and every other Athenian Bonisagi mage, and since they couldn't do anything about their Primus, I would bear the brunt of their resentment.

But I still thought he was worth it.

"All right?" he asked, and I nodded, relaxing back against him.

He sighed, and we lay in silence, enjoying the rare moment of peace. At last he said reluctantly, "I need to go soon. The Aegis — I'm worried about it. The entire system is still fragile, and after the other night, the entire southern section is in danger of collapse. That would take down the rest of the Aegis."

"Is it really that bad?" I asked timidly. "I thought that section was just damaged because of Tiberius, and the Plague child. Can't you fix it?"

"We have, but it's not enough. I've told Astera over and over that I need direct access to the Hearthstone, but each time she rejects my request. Why can't she see that the Aegis is the only defense this city has against the Plague? It _can't_ collapse."

On the pillow, our hair tangled together, mine dark brown, his red-tinted gold. Suddenly I remembered the nightmare Thanos had sent — a world of black Plague vines and golden-red Plague flames — and I had to suppress a shudder. I pointed out, "Astera doesn't even let _me_ see the Hearthstone, and I've lived there for sixteen _years_. When was the last time you asked her?"

"Three days ago. Things really can't continue like this...but, well, I don't want to worry you. It will be all right."

Of course it would. He'd find a way to fix the Aegis. When he started to rise, I tugged him back down. "Wait, you never told me the answer to my question. Why do you care about Athens? Was I right?"

Through his worry, he gave a short laugh. "Surprisingly close, actually. The Hearth is the main reason I came, although the relative stability of the food source is certainly a great advantage when you lead a cabal of nearly thirty mages. But — " he drummed his fingers on my arm, as though searching for the proper words — "but you were also not entirely wrong in your fourth reason."

The jealousy that tore through my heart surprised me.

"No, not like that," he reassured me. "It was a childhood friend, who loved literature and history and dreamed of visiting Athens one day for its — how did you call it? — cultural heritage." A faint smile illumined his face as he remembered long ago, happier times. Then it twisted bitterly and he said with forced carelessness, "She died young. In a hunting accident. And so death comes to all of us."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to — I shouldn't have written that. It was — unkind."

Propping himself up on one arm, he looked down at me and shook off his mood. "Well," he said briskly, "now you know. And, on a different note, I really do need to go. I'm already late as it is."

As we dressed and returned to his workroom, he added, "Check out a copy of _Enochian Runes for Neophytes_ from the library. Teaching you will be a lot easier if we speak the same dialect. I still can't believe the Criamoni don't conjugate their verbs."

And I couldn't believe how many declensions the Bonisagi used. "Can you write a note for Irene, then? Since I'm not technically a member of your House?" I asked, partly because it was true, but mostly because I wanted to spend just a few more minutes with him.

"Oh, yes, of course." But his attention was already transitioning to the Aegis and whatever other pressing concerns House Bonisagus had.

As he hastily scribbled a note and folded and sealed the parchment, I said tentatively, "I was thinking of taking the level tests here." After all, with his instruction in Ars Vis, I now qualified for the Adeptus Maior exam, and wouldn't I love to see Astera's face when I achieved the rank in a different House!

Despite his preoccupation, Thoren still smiled broadly at the prospect. "Excellent. I'm always pleased to strengthen the bonds between our Houses." Then he spoiled the formality of his statement by arching a suggestive eyebrow at me.

Bonds indeed.

"By the way," he added just before we left his workroom, "meet me by the western Aegis stone at 4 p.m. We can continue your lesson there. Be on time."

"Oh," I said, startled and pleased. Did I really have a date with Thoren? So soon after this meeting? "Yes, of course."

Wearing a somewhat silly smile on my face, I went off to Hadrian's Library.

* * *

Later that afternoon, making sure to leave more than enough time to reach the western Aegis stone by 4 p.m., I primped in my bedroom, trying to ignore Ynez's glower. She'd spent the morning with Astera, practicing basic Ars Manes exercises over and over to learn to control her emotions and her magic. As a result, she was out of sorts, and watching me try different hairstyles for a man she hated was doing nothing for her peace of mind.

"I still don't know what you see in him," she fumed, reluctantly handing over her largest mirror so I could check my handiwork.

"He's really not so bad once you get to know him," I mumbled absent-mindedly around a mouthful of hairpins.

"Yes, but you could do so much better! He's no Ganymede!"

"And I'm no Phryne," I pointed out drily.

Ynez gave a gasp of horror. "Are you really comparing yourself to a _prostitute_?"

Oops.

A loud rapping at our window interrupted this fruitful conversation. Rising like an offended cat, Ynez flung it open to find a large swan hovering midair. "Honk!" it complained, barely dodging the shutters. Then Tel asked, "What's going on? Why are both of you still in bed?"

"We're not in bed," Ynez replied, irked. " _She's_ tarting herself up for a meeting with a _man_. _I'm_ trying to convince her that it's a bad idea!"

Tel flapped through the window and perched on her nightstand, filling the room with his great white wings. "Who's the man? Honk! Marina, who is it?"

"It's just a lesson," I said as airily as I could, edging towards the door.

"Yes, a _lesson_ ," said Ynez sarcastically.

"Ooh, ooh, is it a hot date? Do you need a swan in the background as a symbol of undying devotion? I know, you can sit in a boat, and I can pull the two of you!"

"Uhhh…." My mind boggled at the image of Tel pulling a boat with Thoren and me in it, and squawking with laughter anytime we said anything. What could possibly be _less_ romantic? "I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass."

"So who _is_ it?"

Ynez burst out furiously, "It's Magister Thoren!"

Tel was taken aback. "Magister Thoren? But he's a jerk! Marina, why are you dating a jerk?"

"That's what I keep asking her!"

I hadn't meant to do it, but just to escape them, I cast an invisibility Effect and fled into the hallway. Behind me, the swan and the girl got tangled up in a collision of feathers and skirts as they tried to chase me. "Marina, come back!" "Honk!" A small scream. "Tel! Get out! I can't be alone in a room with a _man_!"

Laughing, I summoned a wind disk and flew to the Aegis stone, arriving precisely at 4 p.m. Thoren would be proud.

Except — there was no one there. I looked around the courtyard again and again in bewilderment. He had distinctly said 4 p.m. He would _never_ be late — unless something terrible had happened. Panicking, I was on the verge of flying to the Acropolis when I suddenly remembered his lessons and scanned the courtyard with Ars Vis. Wedged into the Aegis pedestal was a communications stone, like the one he'd given me. Its Resonance suggested a Bonisagi mage, and it had some sort of Ars Temporis Effect on it. Torn between fear for Thoren's safety and wariness of strange magical artifacts, I decided to trust that no one in his House would harm me and put my hand on the communications stone.

As soon as I activated it, time stopped around me. A pigeon went hurtling past at an incredible speed. I fought desperately to lift my hand from the stone, but at this rate, a century would pass in the outside world before I raised it even one inch. All around me, in my bubble of frozen time, I heard Thoren's voice. Warm and affectionate and just a touch worried, it said, "My dearest Marina, I regret that this deception was necessary…."

He'd betrayed me. Only this morning I had given — everything — to him, and he'd betrayed me. Had every touch, every kiss, every embrace been a lie? Had I sacrificed my reputation and my honor (at least the Athenian variety) on the altar of deceit?

He'd _betrayed_ me.

* * *

Meanwhile, more wary of Thoren's motives than I was, Tel flew to the Acropolis to search for me. Ynez, following his progress from the dormitory doorway with anxious eyes, was suddenly struck by a sense of Thanos' presence. There, in the center of the yard, a cypress tree had sprouted and was growing rapidly. Drawn by its Resonance, Astera and the mice converged on it, and Ynez hastened to join them.

In Thanos' unhurried voice, the tree spoke: "House Criamon, I regret that I bring dire tidings. Magister Thoren has decided that he must take control of the Hearth into his own hands."

Astera gasped in fury, and ordered, "Gordon! Go!"

The mice silently vanished.

Thanos continued, "He attempted to enlist my aid in shielding his swift raid from your divination, but I refused him. I will have no part in an internecine Hermetic war. However, he has gone to great lengths to pierce your wards and teleport straight to the Hearth, and he has made extensive preparations to subdue the few mages of House Criamon."

Astera turned to Ynez. "Ynez! Summon whatever you can!"

"Yes, Mater." And for the second time, Ynez began the ritual to manifest her wrath.

"I cannot say how you should act," concluded Thanos (eliciting a small scoff from Ynez). "Only know that I was unable to sway the Magister from his course — although this always seems to be the case with my warnings." ("Does he think he's Cassandra?" Astera muttered.) "And know that unlike my earlier offer to Ynez, I will not be able to undo any disaster that may unfold here."

* * *

Ghallim was at the temple, tending his plants and conversing with Ashton, when Gordon pelted up to him. "Ghallim! Ashton! House Bonisagus is coming! We need to protect Astera!"

Inside Ghallim's head, Ashton yowled aloud a challenge. "It is the hunt! The great hunt!"

Grinning fiercely, Ghallim dropped his bucket and charged into the caves to prepare for battle. There he found Jamie counting crossbow bolts and Sy testing the edge of his pocketknife. Lil checked her healer's kit and wordlessly handed Sy a vial of poison, while Helen clasped her hands in front of herself and rehearsed her repertoire of pitiable-orphan facial expressions. Sliding his bolts back into his quiver, Jamie connected everyone with a mind link, and through it Gordon gave terse, coded orders. The mice worked together like one seamless unit, Ghallim noted. They all knew their individual roles and trusted the others implicitly to watch their backs.

"Protect Lil," Gordon finished. "She's our healer. Now, everyone, places!"

* * *

Meanwhile, I was still fighting against the time trap, although with little knowledge of Ars Vis and none at all of Ars Temporis, there was nothing I could do. But I couldn't just stand here while House Bonisagus attacked my home!

Thoren's explanation continued: "By the time you finish listening to this message, I will be in control of the Hearth, and we will be in the process of implementing long-overdue corrections."

Well, that certainly explained his good mood this morning, his remarks that he "didn't want to worry me" and that "it would be all right." Of _course_ it would be all right — to _him_. He'd finally get what he'd wanted all along. And I — silly, foolish, idiotic I — had fallen right for his lies. I'd believed he cared for me. I'd believed I meant something to him. How could I have been so blind?

* * *

Hovering above the Acropolis, Tel saw two dozen mages and acolytes standing in a circle under the statue of Athena Promachus, finishing a massive Ars Conjunctionis ritual. Dropping down right beside Thoren, who shouted in surprise as thirty pounds of swan dived out of nowhere, Tel honked loudly and said, "Magister Thoren, you're late for your date with Marina! I assume this is a ritual for something romantic?"

Recovering from his shock, Thoren attempted to push him aside. "Telemachus, this is not the time!"

"Yes, it is," Tel pointed out. "It's already 4:00. You really shouldn't keep my sister waiting."

As he jabbed at Thoren's arm with his beak, he did notice that the Bonisagi all bore Wonders, more than one would expect even for a House that loved its Wonders. But there was no time to ponder their intent, because the mages completed their ritual and Tel found himself teleported along with them — straight into the deepest caves near the Hearthstone.

And that was when he understood why the Bonisagi were all shielded by powerful Artes Essentiae and Vis wards, and why all the artifacts they held were related to shackling and subduing.

* * *

Still trapped on the edge of the city, I listened with fading anger but mounting panic to Thoren's words. "Given the amount of accumulated damage, the external patches that I have been applying are no longer sufficient, and the only solution is to reinforce the Hearth from the center. Without intervention, the entire structure of the Aegis will pass a critical tipping point in just one more day. Then, one by one, each Aegis stone will collapse in a cataclysmic failure, and Athens will be lost."

No! He couldn't do this! There had to be another way to save the city! I could hear the sincerity in his voice, and I believed that he meant well, but he didn't understand what he was doing. The children — all the mice! We needed the Hearth, we needed the loom. House Bonisagus couldn't take over the orphanage. Why hadn't Astera made him understand that — that what, though? What could she have said without betraying the godlings? Not even I had trusted him enough to reveal their existence.

But what if I _had_? Could I have talked him out of this mad scheme? Could I have averted this entire catastrophe?

I had to break free. I had to find him and _talk_ to him, make him see why this was such a disaster. He'd listen to me — he'd understand. I'd _make_ him understand. I just had to reach him.

* * *

Thanks to the mice's diversion Effect, not all of the Bonisagi made it to their destination. Seven or eight Adepti appeared in the side corridor where the mice and Ghallim-Ashton lay in wait. As the intruders blinked around them in confusion and shouted for their comrades, the mice ambushed them. While Jamie and Lil showered them with crossbow bolts and blowdarts, Gordon threw himself into hand-to-hand combat, playing a defensive role to draw attacks away from our snipers. Sy, street urchin that he was, eeled his way through the melee, knifing opponents in the back as he skipped by. Helen darted into the thick of the fight and drew upon her remarkable acting skills, playing the part of helpless, adorable little girl to disarm intruders before incapacitating them with bone-crushing hugs. Grinning fiercely and draining the power from his enemies' wands, Ghallim noticed that Gordon, Jamie, Lil, and Sy pulled their punches — but that Helen did not.

Ordered by their Primus to subdue and countermagic rather than to maim and kill, pitted against ancient gods when they expected only a handful of undisciplined mages, the Bonisagi Adepti never stood a chance.

* * *

"Negotiating with Astera has, as always, proven futile," Thoren continued. "She continues to refuse my requests to inspect the Hearthstone chamber, and given her mastery of Ars Temporis, my persistence has only made her more wary. So I have made the difficult decision to erect what Temporal shielding my Adepts are capable of, and to conduct a swift operation to subdue Astera and take control of the Hearth."

No! No no no! Why hadn't I listened to Ynez and Tel? Why had I so determinedly slipped away from them to rendezvous with Thoren? If I hadn't, I'd be at the orphanage now, at their side where I belonged! I was the strongest at Ars Essentiae, which was critical in both offensive and defensive Effects, and I alone of all the Bonisagi and Criamoni stood a chance of stopping Thoren and averting a massacre. My family — Astera, Ynez, Tel, Ghallim, the children — _needed_ me, and Thoren too, even if he didn't know it. If anything happened to any of them, it would be all my fault.

* * *

Astera ran into the caves, Ynez at her heels, following the sounds of the Bonisagi.

"Find her!" Thoren was shouting at his followers. "Get to the Hearthstone!"

When Ynez pounded around the last corner, she saw nearly twenty mages, armed with the strongest countermagic Wonders their House possessed — and Tel, still in swan form, beating ineffectually at Thoren with his wings.

"What are you doing? What are you doing?" Tel honked noisily.

To Ynez's spirit sense, a terrible wave of evil swept across the cave, coming from the direction of the Hearthstone chamber.

* * *

Thoren's message still hadn't finished yet. Having decided to explain himself, he had apparently resolved to do a thorough job. "I know you fear disaster, but remember that I am a Magister Mundi, that twenty-seven members of my House are of the fourth degree or higher — " yes, just rub it in that we're a small House — "and that Astera is but one mage. Even at the core of her power, and even with Ynez and Telemachus by her side, she cannot stand against a Magister Mundi at the head of his House. I may have promised not to object when you sustain injuries in the course of your duties, but I certainly will not add to them. So I have removed you from the situation entirely."

He _had_ frowned a little at my neck this morning, but he hadn't commented and I hadn't wanted to draw attention to it. Now it appeared that officious overprotectiveness was also _his_ middle name. But there lay the problem! My place was there, in the battle to come. My family was there. Thoren himselfwas there. I had to talk some sense into him. But what could I do?

A little tapping sound alerted me to the arrival of Ynez's curiosity spirit. Thank all the gods for prying little sisters! In a flutter of wings, a magpie alighted on the Aegis pedestal, pecked inquisitively at the communications stone, and chirped at me.

Chirping back at the bird, I nearly missed Thoren's last words, and the love that suffused them: "Rest assured, Marina, that this is the safest way to ensure that the Aegis does not collapse and that hundreds of thousands of Athenians do not fall to the Black Death. However, I realize that you may not see it that way, and I look forward to whatever harsh words you have prepared. I have no doubt that I will hear from you shortly."

My bonds fell away as the curiosity spirit switched places with me in the Ars Temporis Effect. With a cry of relief, I ordered the winds to me and molded them into the fastest wind disk I'd ever made.

Harsh words indeed! Did I have harsh words for him!

* * *

While I pushed my limits and flew as fast as I could across the city, the battle raged on in the caves. Roaring ferociously, Ynez's bear charged into the middle of the Bonisagi, swiping at them indiscriminately and sending blood spraying through the air.

The sense of evil continued to grow, and the heat from the corridor leading to the Hearthstone chamber pulsed ever more powerfully. Terrified, Ynez summoned her guilt in the form of a massive black serpent that coiled across the entrance to that corridor and sealed it off entirely. Bonisagi worked furiously to countermagic her Effect, and from behind the serpent, she began to hear terrified screams from intruders. But Astera had warned her that a terrible spirit was bound inside the Hearth, and she couldn't risk its escape.

Astera shouted, "Thoren! How dare you! You will learn what it means to underestimate me!" Pressing a hand to the cave wall, she began to suck Quintessence straight from the Hearth into herself. Shaking off the swan, Thoren betrayed the first sign of dismay as he watched her perform magic that should only have been possible for Magistri Mundi.

It was just one of his catastrophic miscalculations.

* * *

My wind disk finally carried me into the outer caves, just as Ghallim-Ashton and the mice finished off their little band of intruders and burst on the scene near the Hearthstone, led unerringly by Ashton. "I smell blood and fire!" he boomed across the mind link.

They arrived in the nick of time — Thoren was on the verge of subduing Astera when Ghallim leapt through the air and thrust outward with his Ars Vis-enchanted spear. "Leave zis place!" he shouted.

The spearhead punched through the barrier around Thoren and ripped a gash all the way down his left side. Shocked, he shouted with pain and fury and dropped his Effect against Astera, pressing his palms against the wound. The flaps of torn flesh began to necrotize rapidly.

Ynez, meanwhile, was focusing her entire being on bolstering her guilt against the thing in the Hearthstone chamber. The smoke and fires in the cave were growing steadily worse, and the serpent was bowing outwards as if holding back an explosion. Its scales began to hiss and burn. With a screech, Ynez threw her power at it, desperately flattening its coils back across the opening.

Even from the outer caves, I could hear all the screaming. I had just enough presence of mind to cast a shield around myself before I flew through the wall of flames and straight into a scene from a classical tragedy. In a chamber darkened by smoke and lit by flames, Astera was bashing at the Bonisagi's very souls, at the cost of a backlash that tore at her own. Thoren was fighting through his pain in an attempt to draw on the Hearth himself, and _his_ backlash threw himself, Tel, and Ghallim to the ground. Panting and gasping, Ynez hurled ever more energy into her snake, but it sizzled and burned faster than she could heal it, and it was clear that she was nearing the end of her strength. As for the rest of the Bonisagi, who had displayed remarkable discipline through all the blood and death and collapse of their plans, they were at last beginning to panic. Countermagic Wonders fell to the ground and rolled underfoot; wands rose up, and from them burst the inevitable fireballs that were the hallmark of Hermetic combat. Many — too many — of them were targeting Ynez in an attempt to stop her rampaging bear.

"Leave us alone!" Tel flapped over and whacked at Thoren again with his wings, and as he did so, he turned back into a human and shredded Thoren's Pattern.

Thoren screamed, a terrible keening cry that tore through me too.

Aghast, Tel stumbled back and stared at his hands. "What have I done?" he cried. "What happened?"

My first instinct was to fly straight to Thoren and throw up a shield around him, but then Astera tottered and barely caught herself. Her palms scraped across the rough cavern wall and left smears of blood. Tears filling my eyes, I changed course to fling my arms around her and hold her upright.

Falling to the ground, Thoren stared at us and recoiled from something he saw within her. "What's that tied around your heart?" he demanded. "It's ancient! It's centuries old!" And he raised himself up partway on one elbow, sketching an Effect with his wand to unravel it.

Astera screamed, a high-pitched, terrible scream, like Ashton's on the loom when the threads of his soul had snapped.

"No!" I shrieked, and hurled a bind around Thoren. "Stop! We need to talk!"

Dropping his wand, he toppled over and lay motionless, dark blood pooling out around him and reflecting the flames.

Was he all right? He had to be all right! "Tel, do something!" I pleaded, still holding Astera as she clutched at her chest. "Please! Save him!" Clawing at her heart and wheezing, she sank to the ground, dragging me down with her.

Moving as if in a trance, Tel knelt stiffly beside Thoren and gathered him up, rocking him like a baby and chanting Enochian runes like a lullaby. Amid the smoke and haze and the eerie orange dance of the flames, a glow of pure white light suddenly appeared behind Tel. Looking up fearfully — hopefully — I saw a beautiful woman, so much like Cly they might have been sisters, hold out her arms over his head. A tragic mask fell from one outstretched hand and shattered on the ground. With an expression of terrible grief and compassion on her face, the Muse Melpomene mimed out the final act of our tragedy.

I'd been wrong all along — Tel and I weren't Twin Souls because we shared an avatar. We were twinned because our avatars were.

In Tel's arms, Thoren's skin began to hiss and steam, and he screamed a long, sustained, interminable scream that ripped through my ears and my mind and heart and soul.

I found myself screaming along with him.

Tel dropped Thoren and scrambled backwards across the cave floor. "What happened? What happened? I was trying to heal him! No! No!"

"We need to leave now! I don't know how much longer I can hold this!" Ynez shrieked at us, sweat and tears dripping down her face as she fought the spirit in the Hearth.

Off to the side, Ghallim threw up a shield around himself and the mice, who were dispatching the last few Bonisagi. Catching sight of him, I begged, "Ghallim, save him! You saved Tiberius! Do something!"

Ghallim hesitated. "I am not certain eet eez possible," he said doubtfully.

"Please, Ghallim, just try!"

"Well," he told Ashton, "we can't 'ave zis Muse stealing our prey." He knelt beside Thoren, touched an amulet around his own neck, and said, "Don't let 'er win. Come with me."

But Thoren was not a god, as Ghallim had expected, only a mortal man pushed beyond the limits of mortal men.

Ghallim let his hand drop, and he shook his head at me. "I am sorry," he said. "But you may say your farewells."

Leaving Astera's side, I crawled across the rough ground to crouch beside Thoren, tears streaming down my face and splotching his torn shirt. How had it come to this? How could he be _dying_? Just this morning, we had — and then I'd thought he'd betrayed me — and then I'd discovered he'd done it out of love — and I was planning to scream at him until he apologized —

This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He wasn't supposed to be dying. How could you be angry at someone who was dying? Whose last act had been to prove his devotion in the most misguided way possible, but about which you couldn't even yell at him because you only had a few minutes to say goodbye?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Weakly, he echoed my thoughts. "Marina," he breathed, moving his hand weakly towards mine. I seized it and held on tight. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. There were twenty-four of us, and only five of you." I couldn't even summon any anger at his presumption. He had miscalculated, and he would pay for it with his life and the lives of everyone in Athens.

Still weeping, I managed to choke out, "I — I have no harsh words for you. Because — I understand why you did it."

"Now the Aegis will go down," he sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Athens is doomed."

I clutched his hand even more tightly, wrapping both my hands around his as if my grip could hold death at bay. "No. You underestimated our House once. Do not do it again. We will _fix_ this. _I promise_."

"I hope...for the sake of everyone in Athens...that you're right."

So did I. But I didn't say it.

Blood began to froth from his mouth. "Marina, _hjartað mitt..._ ," he whispered through the bubbles. _Marina, my heart._

I leaned over and rasped out brokenly in his ear, "This is _not_ goodbye. I will go down to Hades to find you if I need to. _I swear it_."

But there was no response. When I raised my head again, his eyes were staring sightlessly at the ceiling. I recoiled from that blind gaze.

He was gone. He was really gone.

I'd never again show up at his workroom, heart pounding with nervousness and anticipation. I'd never sit across from him and listen to him expound upon the uses of Ars Vis, breaking down complicated concepts into elegant explanations only a master could summon. I'd never again argue with him over Enochian pronunciations, or shout at him about the conduct of his Secunda.

I'd never curl up in his lap, feeling safe and loved, never run my fingers through his hair, never again listen to the rumble of his chest against my ear when he laughed.

We'd had such a brief time together — mere moments snatched from a world gone mad.

Now it was all over.

He was gone.

Melpomene had completed her tragedy, writ in fire and famine and collapsing leylines.

* * *

Numbly, I registered that Ynez was tugging at my arm, shouting something at me over the roar of the flames. "Marina! I can't hold it any longer! We have to go! Marina!"

I blinked, wiped away my tears, and noticed that she had dragged my wind disk over to me. A few feet away, Tel huddled on the ground, rocking back and forth and weeping.

"Marina! Tel! We need to get out!"

Something about the panic in her voice finally shoved me into action. "I'm not leaving Thoren," I said, pulling him onto the wind disk with us.

"That's _fine_! You can bring him! But we have to go!"

Together we tugged at Tel until he woodenly crawled onto the disk.

"You need to fly this thing," Ynez reminded me. "Marina! Hurry!"

The snake hissed and began to peal away at its edges. Flames started to pour out around it, like molten iron.

"Where are the others?" I demanded, as the wind disk picked up speed.

Ynez pointed towards the loom chamber, where the mice were hustling Ghallim. Gordon turned to give us a thumbs up sign. "We'll be fine here!" he shouted at us.

"What about Astera? Where's Astera?" We couldn't leave her!

But Ynez only shook her head, tears of pain and grief running down her face. She pointed at the ground, at a pile of black ashes where our mother had lain.

"Keep going," she ordered, and I obeyed because my mind had turned to stone.

"Ynez, what happened to Astera?" I pleaded. I couldn't have lost her too...please, gods, not Astera too.

"Lil did something," Ynez said softly. "She untethered the spirit tied around Astera's heart and took it."

And as we sailed past the loom chamber, just before Jamie slammed the door against the heat and the flames, we saw Lil in one of the circles and a faint figure in the other, and we heard her reciting, "I, Lilian Karahalios, accept my part of my bond with Despina Delios. I do so sound of mind, free of all influence, and knowing fully what is asked of me. For so long as our hearts beat, I will wield her gifts, tend her charges, and bear her burdens. This I swear under Rhea's light."

Despina Delios bani Criamon had lived four hundred years ago.

"Lil!" I shouted, but the door thudded shut, and I had no time to do anything else but steer the wind disk out of the caves, right before a final, infuriated blast from the spirit in the Hearth vaporized everything in its path.

* * *

Outside at last, I lost my hold on the wind disk and we thumped to the ground. Tel doubled over, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed. Ynez pressed her palms to her cheeks as if willing herself to wake from a nightmare. And I — I gently laid Thoren on the ground, arranged his arms so that he might have been sleeping, bit the inside of my mouth until it bled, and then shoved aside all pain.

I stood and faced Ynez. "You're our Prima now," I said in a voice that was almost steady.

She shook her head in horrified denial. "No, no. I can't. There's so much Astera hasn't taught me. Hadn't taught me." Her voice caught on the last words, and she burst into tears.

I took her in my arms as our mother might have, took her and rocked her as she wept, and wept with her, my tears dripping into her hair. Then I reached out and pulled Tel into our embrace too — Tel, who had to live with the horror of what he had done, who had to bear his bond with the Muse of Tragedy. I gathered Tel to us, and the three of us grieved together.

As we sank to the ground in a tangle of skirts and hair, I felt something hard pressing against my side. Numbly, I put a hand to my pocket and drew out the communications stone Thoren had given me. Staring at that stone, recalling all the times I had used it over the past few days, I couldn't believe he was gone. How could he not be somewhere on the Acropolis, with the twin of my stone in his pocket? How could he not be there to listen to my messages and respond — or not — as the case might be? How could all that was left of him be lying here in the orphanage yard, cold and bloody and staring up at the sky he would never see again, only yards from the leylines he had built to power the Aegis he would never repair again? Why was he not sitting up and ordering us to stop carrying on like a bunch of undisciplined Criamoni and get on with fixing the crisis?

How could he be gone forever?

Pressing the stone to my lips, I wept as if my heart had crumbled and turned to ash deep within the caves.

* * *

After I don't know how long, subdued footsteps heralded the arrival of the mice. They all looked exhausted, and battered, and mournful, none more so than Lil. Standing shakily, I hugged each of the children in turn, and then wrapped my arms around as many as I could at once. Helen pressed against my skirts, trembling; Sy clung to me, for once making no attempt to pick my pockets. Jamie shook with exhaustion, and Gordon, who was taller than I, put his arms around my and Jamie's shoulders and leaned his cheek against my head.

Ynez approached Lil uncertainly. "What — happened?" she asked.

Lil met her gaze steadily and sorrowfully. "I have taken the spirit of Despina Delios into me, as Astera did before me, and as all the Primae of House Criamon have in an unbroken chain back to the Great Famine and the Forgotten Orphanage."

"So you have joined with Astera, like the other mice with the gods?" I asked, my voice more toneless than I had intended.

She shook her head mutely, and it was Jamie who explained quietly, "No, it is different with her. Eventually — eventually Lil will be subsumed."

So many losses in one day! Over Ynez's exclamation of horror, I cried, "This cannot be right! How can it be fair to ask children to merge their souls with gods, or to be erased by them entirely?"

"I agree," said Ghallim grimly. "Zis cannot be right to ask of children."

Sy's temper flared, just a little. "And do you know what becomes of orphans, the whole world over? We were given a chance to become something greater than ourselves! It was our choice! Would you take that from us?"

And Lil echoed him softly, "It was my choice."

"But why you?" Ynez asked with anguish. "Why not me? Am _I_ the Prima? Are _you_ the Prima?"

Lil shook her head slightly. "You're the Prima. I don't know why Astera chose me. I don't have access to all her knowledge yet…."

In my head I finished her sentence: "...because my identity hasn't been consumed by hers yet."

I wanted Astera — or Despina, or whoever she was — back. I wanted her back so badly. But I loved Lil too, and how could I bear to recover my mother at the cost of my sister?

This could not be right. None of this could be right. I had begun the day with joy and hope, and now — now the Hermetic Houses were at war; the only two Magistri Mundi in the city, who might have had a chance at staving off the Plague, were dead; House Bonisagus had nearly been wiped out by a costly error — _such_ a costly error — and was headed by a Prima who wasn't even an adept of Ars Vis; and House Criamon was led by a fourteen-year-old Prima with magical control issues — and by me.

Oh gods, _I_ was now the Secunda of House Criamon.


	12. The Rest of Saturday March 6, 1490

_**Part II: Firestorm**_

 **The Rest of Saturday March 6, 1490**

There was, in the end, some justice to Thoren's contention that House Criamon was unruly and disorganized. While so many crises swirled around us, we huddled in our little clump in the orphanage yard. The Secunda cut off a lock of her dead lover's hair and sobbed disconsolately over his mangled body, the Prima awkwardly and unsuccessfully attempted to soothe her, the only other official member of the House abjured all magical usage, and the unofficial member of the House (or possibly his ancient-god-turned-avatar) made inappropriate jokes that cheered no one. Then again, that might not have been his intent. The gods were not often comforting.

"I'm not sure eef things are more or less complicated now" was among his first remarks. To our disbelieving stares, he elaborated helpfully, "Zere eez one less person to irritate us."

Thoren could be irritating, I thought, but I'd _miss_ being irritated by him. I'd miss our fights. I'd miss him scowling furiously at me and insulting my House and my education; I'd miss shouting right back.

That was followed by a surge of guilt that I could even _think_ of him as irritating when he lay dead before me, when he'd loved me and tried to protect me and succeeded all too well, sacrificing his life in the process.

If only I hadn't fallen for his trap, I could have talked him out of his mad plan. It was my fault. His death was my fault. Astera's death and Lil's erasure were my fault. The massacre in the caves, the near escape of the Hearth spirit, the decimation of House Bonisagus, the impending collapse of the Aegis — my fault. All of it mine. What divine injustice had left me alive when so many were dead? I could have died along with all the Bonisagi, and not even _begun_ to atone for the tragedy. I should summon the Areopagus for myself, I thought with bitter humor, remembering Ynez's trial, just a couple days and a lifetime ago, and Astera standing tall and proud, a pillar at our backs. I'd been terrified of the verdict, but she'd been _there_ , and only now did I realize that I'd never believed in my heart that anything truly terrible could happen as long as she were there. She simply wouldn't allow it. And now she was gone. In a way. Astera-Despina would return in the fullness of time, and then Lil would be gone. Was that better or worse? Better or worse? Was there even a "better" in this situation?

Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body, and I covered my face with my hands, rocking back and forth. If only I'd told Thoren about the mice from the start, if only I'd been more observant at the Acropolis this morning, if only I'd listened to Ynez when she advised me not to go this afternoon, if only I'd started to study Ars Vis years earlier so I could have broken the time trap, if only I were better at Ars Essentiae so I could have flown home faster. If only, if only, if only.

"Ghallim!" Ynez exclaimed sternly, petting my shoulder helplessly and handing me her last clean handkerchief. "Your jokes are not helpful right now!"

Hearing my gasping sobs, Tel began to wail anew. "What happened?" he pleaded. "What happened? I don't want to have anything to do with magic anymore. It only kills people and hurts my friends. I don't want to do magic anymore. Make it stop. Please, make it stop!"

Raising my head, I suggested wildly, "Can we swap his avatar for a different Muse? Like the Muse of Comedy?" It was an insane idea, of course. From Astera's lessons and our own experiences with the loom, I knew perfectly well that the avatar removal procedure was delicate and dangerous, and even if we succeeded, where would we find a replacement avatar? But I didn't feel like being reasonable.

"Uhhh," said Ynez, striving for diplomacy, and her attempt at kindness only made me cry harder. _I_ was the older sister here. I was the one who should be supporting her as she adjusted to our mother's death and her sudden promotion to Head of House. But instead _I_ was the one falling apart uselessly.

Putting a tentative arm around my shoulders, Ynez half turned towards Ghallim as the only non-comatose ally here and said, "We need to deal with...the bodies. Return them to the Acropolis. Before House Bonisagus shows up to collect them."

"I think ze mice are in ze caves dealing with zem already. Maybe zey are eating ze bodies."

"What?" cried Tel. "Why would they eat the bodies?"

Ynez glared at Ghallim. "That is _not_ helpful," she repeated. In a miracle of nature, he and Ashton actually subsided. "Here's what we'll do. Marina and I will go to the Acropolis to talk to Leona. Tel will hire carts and guards for us to transport the — the dead. Ghallim will help the mice carry out the bodies."

Having clear tasks worked wonders for our functionality. Ghallim moved swiftly into the caves, and Tel pulled himself together long enough to stand up and trudge into the city. In his wake, a riot of golden narcissi and scarlet anemones erupted along the side of the road, and snow-white butterflies and hummingbirds flitted among the flowers. Blinded by misery, he didn't notice, and I was too numb to call out to him. By the time I finally formed a coherent sentence, he'd already turned a corner and vanished.

"Marina. Marina!" From Ynez's emphatic tone, she'd been calling my name for a while. "We should prepare for, for, um, talking to Leona."

Yes, that made sense. I cast one last lingering look at Thoren, then stood resolutely and shook out my grass-stained skirts, and the two of us retreated to the library to discuss how to end the nascent inter-House war. It was tricky — we had to demonstrate respect for the fallen and acknowledge our mutual loss, while establishing that their attack was an unprovoked offense that we were magnanimously overlooking for the greater good (for now, anyway). It was a relief to focus on something intently and to shove away all other thoughts, and I wrote Ynez quite a nice little speech to deliver. Perhaps equally grateful for an activity to occupy her mind, she rehearsed it until she had it perfectly memorized. Astera would have been proud. Would be proud. Whenever she returned.

While Ynez speechified to the little carved wooden figures on my desk, I returned to my room to change into an old dark-colored dress, the closest I had to mourning wear, and to tuck Thoren's lock of hair into a locket Astera had given to me at the last Winter Solstice. I'd never worn it for fear of scratching or losing it, but now I slipped it over my head and under my dress, and it nestled against my skin like a promise that I would see both my mother and my lover again someday.

For all Ynez's logical insistence that _we_ were the affronted party here, I still felt that we needed a peace offering for House Bonisagus. Or perhaps _I_ needed the gesture to assuage my own guilt. And so I sought out Ghallim, who had just carried out the last of the bodies from the Hearth, and asked him for Thanos' scroll. Irene, who would be Secunda now that Leona was Prima — tears filled my eyes again — would be grieving as well. Maybe, just maybe, the original scroll in Herodotus' own handwriting would provide a brief distraction and a measure of solace.

There was only one problem — Ghallim returned from the temple empty-handed. The scroll had vanished. In fact, just like Thanos' narcissus, it had never been there. Another time, I might have felt anger or dismay, but now I couldn't bring myself to care. I merely thanked Ghallim and went off in search of Sy for the other two volumes of the _Historia_ , but I succeeded only in offending him with a tactless, hurtful comment that street urchins didn't need books when they couldn't read anyway. Stung, he ran away into the caves, and I felt a fresh burst of guilt and sorrow. Now I'd hurt my little brother too. It wasn't at all fair to lash out at him just because I was in pain, and it wasn't fair to let him go without apologizing to him, but I just didn't have the energy for it. I was so _tired_.

Ynez emerged from our room, wearing a clean, dark dress, with her hair pinned up tidily. She looked almost adult-like, and a faint sensation of pride stirred in me. Ynez, my little sister, all grown up and shouldering her responsibilities with a grace beyond her years.

But then she spoiled the illusion by calling out anxiously, "Mariiina, where's Tel?"

I looked around blankly. "I haven't seen him."

"We can't wait much longer, or House Bonisagus will come _here_ ," she fretted. "Where's Ghallim?"

"Dunno."

She stared at me for a moment, closed her mouth on whatever she'd planned to say, and said instead, "We should go look for them."

Excellent idea, and very easy to carry out. All we had to do was follow the trail of flowers. About halfway between the orphanage and the public stables, we came across Tel and Ghallim sitting right in the middle of the road. Unsurprisingly, waterfalls were still flowing down Tel's cheeks, and even from a distance we could hear him saying desperately, "But people died! Marina will be mad at me. I don't want to do magic anymore! I just want to make it stop!"

"'Ave you tried threatening your avatar? I did with mine," Ghallim suggested.

For the first time in years, Tel lost his temper. "No! That's not going to help! Just _go away_!"

Instead of giving up, Ghallim stayed by his side and rambled away, letting his words fall around Tel like a blanket. "Some people think magic eez good. I wouldn't know — I never do any magic, I leave eet to ze gods. But magic eez a form of power, and all power can kill, even eef eet eez not directly…."

Suddenly, a flock of butterflies and hummingbirds flew into the flowers, darted among them, and flitted around Ghallim in a delicate dance. His wounds instantly closed, leaving only dried blood on smooth skin.

"You help _now_?" Tel shouted at his avatar. " _Now_ you decide to help?"

"You must learn to control your magic," Ghallim urged.

"No! I don't want to _do_ magic! Make it go away!"

Walking up to them, Ynez exchanged a look with Ghallim over Tel's bowed head. "We really need those carts," she said. "House Criamon will reimburse you, of course."

He nodded and rose gracefully. "I'll hire them."

As he jogged away, Ynez bent down to address Tel (she couldn't sit without soiling her skirts). "It _is_ possible to remove your avatar if we use the loom. But are you _sure_ you want to do this? It's an extreme solution…."

Another flock of butterflies and hummingbirds ribboned around her, healing her wounds.

"I'm not buying this!" Tel yelled, and called his avatar something that made Ynez gasp. "I don't know its name," he informed her defiantly.

True — in the caves Melpomene had stood _behind_ him, and in the confusion of the battle and its aftermath, none of us had yet told him what we'd seen. "We're Twin Souls because our avatars are sisters," I said now. "Your avatar is Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy."

"The Muse of Tragedy?" he exclaimed, utterly appalled. "How did I get bound to the _Muse of freaking Tragedy_?" At his words, his brown shoes suddenly transformed into red, gold, and white _cothurnus_ , the laced half-boots worn by tragic actors. "It's not working, Mel!" he shouted. "I still don't want you!"

Twisting a lock of her hair, Ynez promised, "We'll talk to her, Tel. We have to go to the Acropolis now, but we'll talk to her later."

"Fine!" At last he stood, knocked the dirt off his knees, and followed us back to the orphanage to prepare for our diplomatic mission.

* * *

The chaos that greeted us at the Acropolis reminded me so much of Thanos' nightmare that I froze beside the carts. In an act of foresight worthy of Astera, Ynez had tactfully covered them with tarp. The city was already rife with wild rumors about open Hermetic warfare, and she didn't want to spark a riot. Also, Tel was verging on a mental breakdown, I came a close second, and the sight of corpses bouncing along wasn't conducive to good mental health for anyone. As we led the plodding horses up the footpath, we saw young Bonisagi apprentices running frantically between the Parthenon and Hadrian's Library, terror speeding their feet and tears filling their eyes. Flagging down an Initiate, Ynez imperiously ordered him to announce our arrival, and he stared wide-eyed at the Criamoni insignia on our clothing, and at Ghallim, who held his spear upright and pretended to be a guard, and babbled, "Yes, I'll let the Prima know at once!" Then he ran off as if we might eat him.

So many memories here. Just around the corner of the Parthenon waited Thoren's workshop. What would I see if I went there now? Had Leona left it untouched out of respect? Or had she claimed it already and filled it with her books, her artifacts, her tools, her people? Had she moved any of the furniture — the solid wood desk across which I had spread the Aegis diagram, the chairs in which Thoren and I had sat? And what of his bedchamber — had she already thrown her sheets and blankets across his bed, hung her clothing in his wardrobe? How could I be here, but not Thoren — at least, not alive?

Oh, Thoren….

Leona, with Irene and another Adepta Maior trailing her discreetly, came forth (from the direction of her old workroom, I was relieved to see) to greet us, and remembering our plan, I stepped up beside Ynez on her right and tugged at Tel's sleeve until he stood on her left. The Bonisagi leaders adopted a similar configuration, although they looked more impressive. While we'd been crying in the dirt and rummaging through worn clothing, Leona had donned the proper mourning attire of a Prima of House Bonisagus — flowing robes of luxurious black fabric that had never seen a tear or patch and that were cut _just so_ , to emphasize the wearer's dignity and authority. The design was meant to overawe and intimidate, and it might have worked if Thoren hadn't wielded far more power garbed in far plainer clothing. Or maybe I was just bitter.

"Prima Leona bani Bonisagus," Ynez nodded to her formally.

Leona returned the gesture with equal courtesy, which boded well for inter-House relations. "Prima Ynez bani Criamon." It was as if she had never summoned the Areopagus, never accused Ynez of murder, never called for her ostracism.

Carefully and clearly, enunciating for the benefit of the other Bonisagi who'd dropped any pretense of work and crept up to peer at us, Ynez recited the lines we had prepared: "A great tragedy has befallen both of our Houses this day. As a gesture of respect and of hope that we may work together for the greater good, we have come to return your compatriots. Their deaths are a terrible loss to the entire city of Athens."

Standing just a step behind Leona's right shoulder, Irene tensed as her gaze moved from Ynez's small figure to Ghallim standing like an honor guard beside the bodies of her friends. She pressed her lips together as if to hold back anger or tears, or both. I could empathize. But I didn't know what to say.

Somewhat distractedly, and with a great deal less formality than Ynez, Leona said, "Yes, thank you. The Aegis — the Aegis exists because of Thoren's vision. We are doing everything we can to ensure it stands, and he has left detailed notes for how to connect it to the Hearthstone directly…."

Oh no, that not again. Leaning over, I whispered in Ynez's ear, "Maybe we should move to a private room."

Giving no indication that she'd heard me, she stared levelly at Leona and suggested coolly, "Perhaps we might discuss this somewhere more private?"

Leona shrugged. "I am happy to have this conversation here — I trust the members of my House. But we can also speak privately — it is of no concern to me."

"It is not we Bonisagi who have something to hide — " Irene started to say indignantly, but Leona silenced her with a sharp hand gesture.

"This way, please," she said, motioning for Ynez to walk side by side with her. Irene and I fell in behind them, carefully avoiding each other's eyes, and Tel, Ghallim, and the Adepta Maior followed. Behind us, Bonisagi Adepti were somberly driving the carts away.

Leona led us to her old workroom, not Thoren's, for which I was grateful, even if it did bring back memories of the time she had sat me down to lecture me on courtship and propriety. But she had meant well then, and thus far she had treated us with the respect due by one House to another, and so I cautiously hoped that she meant well now. As a gesture of — something, I wasn't sure what — I took the same chair I had last time. I couldn't tell from her Prima's mask if she noticed or even remembered.

Once we were all seated, she continued the discussion as if it had never been interrupted. "As I was saying, Thoren left us detailed notes, but he _was_ an archmage of Ars Vis. As none of the rest of us are, we are having difficulty interpreting them. Because of my background, I specialize in Ars Animae, and, well…." She made a rueful, helpless gesture — just another new Prima woefully unprepared for the role.

To my horror, tears flooded my eyes at Thoren's name. I was the Secunda of House Criamon on a diplomatic mission, I told myself fiercely. I would not shame our House. I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry. To hide my face — unlike Tel's, my nose turned red and runny when I wept — I dropped my gaze to my hands and surreptitiously dug my nails into one palm. The pain gave me something else to focus on.

Dropping his pretense of being our hired guard (which fooled no one anyway), Ghallim offered, "I 'ave some knowledge of what you call ze Ars Vis. As I wish to learn more of ze Ars Animae, I propose an exchange."

In a burst of emotion, Irene exclaimed bitterly, "Have we sunk to this level? Are we bargaining like housewives at the market? If no one else will ask — _what happened in the Hearth_? Thoren gave specific orders not to injure anyone; he _forbade_ the use of offensive magic; he even _banned_ the wand of searing — "

"And did you not expect us to defend ourselves when we were invaded and attacked without provocation?" Ghallim snapped.

Tears began to splotch the fabric in my lap.

Again Leona waved Irene to silence, but she leveled a gaze at Ynez and said impassively, "This is no reflection upon the competence of your House, but it is... _concerning_ that over twenty mages of House Bonisagus, which is not the least of the Hermetic Houses, failed to overcome a mere five mages." A mere five mages. If only they knew! If only Thoren had known! My control broke entirely and I started to weep loudly enough for the others to notice. "But this is not the time to discuss that," Leona added drily.

"No," Ynez agreed, just a hint of anger in her voice. "No, this is not the time to discuss that."

Trying to make peace, Ghallim said, "I would of course be 'appy to look over ze notes."

Leona continued to stare at Ynez. "All of that will come to nothing if you, like your predecessor, refuse to grant us direct access to the Hearthstone."

"Ah," said Ynez, searching for the proper diplomatic language. "I'm afraid we cannot grant that request, but if you let us know what you require, we will be happy to — "

"What is House Criamon hiding?" Irene demanded, ignoring Leona's glare. "What aren't you telling us?"

At that, Tel, who had been staring blankly into space for the entire conversation, blinked and asked, "What? Did someone say my name?" When no one responded, he stared at his hands instead.

Leona was shaking her head at Irene, but I had known both of them for years, and I could guess that Irene had posed the question Leona desperately wanted to ask herself. And so I appealed to our past friendship. "Leona. I mean, Prima. Please — we'd explain if we could. But — we can't…." And I held out my hands helplessly.

"Yes," Ynez seconded softly. "If we could, we would explain to you why we cannot grant direct access to the Hearthstone."

Leona nodded a little, acknowledging that a Prima might have reasons she could not divulge, however much she wished to, and tactfully changed the subject. "The Plague is getting stronger, and there is a stench of death from the Tower of the Winds." When we only looked confused, she asked, "Can you not smell it?"

Dismissing Irene and the other Adepta Maior, whom she'd never bothered to introduce, she led us onto the roof of the Parthenon and cast a combined Artes Animae, Conjunctionis, and Vis Effect. The odor of putrefaction smashed into us. I didn't even need to use Ars Vis to smell decaying parchment, my own Resonance, in the air, but Leona was in a merciful mood and didn't look too accusingly at me.

"Have you searched for the origins of the Plague?" I asked. "Zoe bani Quaesitor said that the Inquisition traced its roots here."

"We've looked," she replied. "But we did not find them here." She frowned unseeingly at the Tower of the Winds for a moment, then snapped back to the present. "Well, if there is nothing else, there is much to do. We must prepare for the funeral, for one."

"Yes," agreed Ynez. "If you send over Thoren's — " she cast a quick look at me, but I gritted my teeth and refused to cry again — "notes, Ghallim will look over them and we will see what can be done."

Leona nodded. "It will be done. I do not apologize for the invasion, for it was planned and executed without malice and intended for the greater good — and Thoren specifically ordered our Adepti not to draw their wands. But I do regret the tragedy to both of our Houses." From her tone, you'd never have guessed that _they_ had attacked _us_ first and we'd only acted to defend our home.

Pushed past her limits by Bonisagi intransigence, Ynez snapped, "Because of the tragedy, we will overlook it for now!" and stormed down the stairs. Ghallim gave a little shrug, placed a brotherly hand on Tel's arm, and guided him towards the exit, but I lingered and asked timidly, fearing rejection, "Leona, can I — may I attend Thoren's funeral?"

For a long moment she was silent, perhaps remembering her warning about my reputation and wondering how I would flout social convention now. I bit my lip, thinking she would tell me the funeral was private House business. But at last she said in a neutral voice, "It will be at midnight in the harbor."

* * *

With a few hours to slaughter — I was in a morbid mood — we finally had that promised conversation with Melpomene. Which proved to be about as useful as one might have expected. Clustered around a mirror, Ynez, Tel, and I stared into its depths to see a bare room, the wooden floor littered with broken white pottery. The Muse wept steadily as she scrabbled around on the floor, picking up the shards of her mask and attempting to rebuild it on her face. Jagged pieces kept breaking off. Spotting us, she shook her head mournfully. "Oh no, oh no, this is such a bad idea," she moaned. "It won't end well."

She rose to leave, but Ynez reached into the mirror and grabbed her arm. "Oww!" Ynez yelped and flinched but maintained her grip.

The bit of mask on Melpomene's face smashed to the floor. "I told you it wouldn't end well," she sobbed.

"You're hurting Tel," Ynez said firmly. "You have to start listening to his wishes."

"Yeah," put in Tel. "I want to do stuff like heal people and turn into cute animals. I don't want to kill anyone!"

"Ooooh," Melpomene wailed again, sounding more like ghost than Muse. "Oooh, I don't know. I can do healing and animal shapes sometimes, but only when I'm very very sad." Translation: When she caused her host unspeakable grief, she had to counterbalance her cruelty with perfunctory acts of minimal kindness.

Turning away from the mirror without relinquishing her grasp, Ynez whispered to Tel, "This is so weird. It's like there's a spirit woven into your mind where your avatar should be."

"Whaaat?" Tel asked. "I don't remember any of this! I don't remember asking for any of this!" He began to cry too.

Furious, Ynez ordered Melpomene, "Stop hurting Tel!"

She only sobbed harder, but I scanned her with Ars Vis and realized that she was gaining power from her resonance with Tel's sorrow. "I don't want to hurt him," she wept.

"I don't want you to hurt other people either!" Tel told her. "You killed Thoren!"

"Oooh, but he was attacking and he caused Astera's death," she moaned. Her words brought all the pain that I'd tried so hard to suppress back to the forefront. Thoren _had_ caused Astera's death and indirectly Lil's. But he hadn't borne any ill will…but neither had Tel...and neither had Melpomene. Thoren had wanted to save Athens by saving the Aegis, and Tel had wanted to save _him_ , and Melpomene was the Muse of Tragedy and could only behave as her nature dictated…. Could any of us help being what we were?

"What about my parents? You turned them into dogs! Change them back!"

"But that wasn't me…. That was you…. I don't want to hurt you — believe me, I really don't want to hurt you."

"That's not good enough!" Ynez snapped.

"It _is_ her nature," I said, trying my best to be fair. "She's the Muse of Tragedy, after all."

Abruptly, Melpomene's tears vanished. Standing tall and proud, she shouted, "How dare you patronize me! Who do you think you are?"

Still holding her arm, Ynez yelled back, "I'm the warden of the spirits!"

The Muse recoiled a little and then asked craftily, "Ah, but did Astera tell you _all_ the secrets?"

To me Ynez's bluff was clear, but her stern response made Melpomene flinch: "She told me enough. Do better — or I'll find other solutions. You are _not_ irreplaceable." Although the Muse was tall, five feet ten inches at least, and Ynez was an entire head shorter and had to glare upwards, she radiated passion and intimidation, and Melpomene actually cringed away.

"Is there hope?" Tel asked piteously.

" _Yes,_ there is absolutely hope," Ynez said firmly.

Back in her abject form, Melpomene predicted hopelessly, "Oh, it will end in tragedy. This can only end in tragedy."  
Disgusted by the entire affair, Ynez released her arm and slammed the mirror down, ending the Effect. Whether or not her warden-of-the-spirits authority could even partially override a spirit's essential nature was very doubtful — which meant that Tel still couldn't work magic safely or reliably. (Unless, of course, you wanted certain tragedy.) We had gained exactly nothing from the conversation.

* * *

Just before midnight, Ynez, Ghallim, Tel, and I arrived at the harbor to find a dozen Bonisagus mages bustling around two Viking funeral ships — real beauties with sleek sides and high arched prows. Young apprentices bearing torches stood at attention in a semicircle around the dock, displaying all the pride of children entrusted with a meaningful task. The flickering firelight played over the ten Bonisagus Adepti lying side by side in one of the ships, and leaped around Thoren, who lay in state in the other. The entire scene was dreamlike — the pale faces of the dead mages; Thoren's absolute stillness; the way his hands rested motionless upon his chest, he who was always busy, always rushing from one meeting to the next; the guilty, stricken faces of the survivors; the broken sobs of Leif, who was directing a proper Norse farewell for his compatriots. I felt as if I were in a trance, as if I were the Pythia at Delphi, drifting through a sea of disjointed prophecies. In a way, it made the funeral easier to bear, for it didn't feel real and hence couldn't be real.

The hushed silence of the Bonisagi took on a different tint when our little procession crossed the ring of torches, but I was too busy tethering myself to the present to decipher their mood. Guilt? Blame? Anger? Shame? I couldn't tell. It didn't matter anyway.

All that mattered was that Ynez, clasping an olive branch from one of Ghallim's trees before her like a votive candle, was leading our small party down to the ships. We paused before the one bearing the ten mages first, bowing our heads in respect and farewell. I tried to find some emotion for them — grief at lives cut short, anger at the invasion, anything — but failed. I simply didn't have it in me to care.

And then I was following Ynez towards the other ship, Thoren's ship, and the ground was tipping and rolling under my feet so that I had to concentrate on each step, lest I fall down right in front of all the Bonisagi, and in front of Ynez and Tel and Ghallim who cared about me and would worry terribly if they knew just how shaky my world felt. I was focusing so hard on walking straight that I nearly bumped into Ynez when she stopped, and reluctantly I lifted my eyes from the dock to the wooden side of the ship, which came above my waist, and then to the deck, and then to the dark fabric that must be the edge of Thoren's cloak —

Look. I can't. _Look_. No, no, I can't. It is not a proper farewell if you don't. I truly can't bear it. You shame him with your cowardice.

Ynez cautiously laid her olive branch on the deck and stepped back so I could stand by Thoren's side one final time. All around us, a cool wind was rising, a tender lullaby to sing the ships to sea. It rustled through my hair, and the Ars Essentiae that had woven it tinkled in my ears, and I thought before I could stop myself that Thoren would be so exasperated at this use of vulgar magic, and that I'd have to tease him about it at my next lesson. House Bonisagus, abusing vulgar magic? Gods forbid!

Except there would be no next lesson. There would be no more lessons, ever again.

With an effort, I forced my gaze to travel up from the edge of his cloak to his side, his chest, his hands, and finally, his face. His face was all wrong. It was too still, too masklike, and his hair was too tidy. It had been slicked down with something to keep the wind from mussing it, but it just looked stiff and fake. This had to be a marble statue carved to look like Thoren. It couldn't be Thoren, not my Thoren.

I didn't know how long I stood frozen before both of our Houses, staring down at him; I didn't know what expression my face held. At last it was Ynez who nudged me gently and whispered, "They will launch the ships soon."

I croaked, "I have — " I cleared my throat and tried again. "I have a, a poem I wrote for him. I'd like to read it — first."

With shaking fingers, I pulled a scroll out of my satchel, nearly dropping it. My hands were trembling so hard that it took two tries to unroll it, but finally I had the words before me and I recited waveringly:

 _I pledge to thee, my love, by Hearth and heart,  
Thou shalt not long roam Hades as a shade:  
Like grieving Orpheus I'll play my part,  
Convince the Lord of Death that thou hast paid  
The price for thy mistake. Thy frenzied pride  
Surpasses not that of Salmoneus;  
Brutality incarnate, not thy guide:  
In deed, thou canst not rival Tantalus._

Tears filled my eyes until the words blurred into one black mess and I could no longer read them. If I'd been thinking clearly, I'd have written them in a larger size so they'd still be legible — but of course I hadn't. I couldn't do this. But I couldn't shame Thoren and myself by fleeing now. All the mages were deathly quiet as I wiped my eyes and continued in a thin, high voice:

 _Then let Hermetic Houses not revile  
Thy fatal error or condemn thy name —  
Thou couldst not idly watch the Aegis while  
It fell, and Athens burned with Plague and flame._

My courage very nearly failed me when I glanced up from the parchment into the crowd of silent Bonisagi and saw Leona's eyes fixed upon me. But I finished anyway, casting my heart and my honor onto the ship with Thoren, my funerary gift to him:

 _So follow me, my heart, forsake the grave:  
We have a life to live, a home to save._

There was not a sound when I finished, not a single whisper from anyone there who had already known, or suspected, what Thoren and I meant to each other. "There is _nothing_ dishonorable about our relationship. To think so is ridiculous," he had declared only this morning, but he was no longer here to defend me to his mages and the world. Well, I had made my choice and pledged it before both our Houses. Defiantly, I re-rolled the scroll and laid it on the ship beside Ynez's olive branch. Then I stepped back into the crowd, the crowd of Bonisagi who had condoned Thoren's raid on our House, who had let him do it and let him die. What did I care what they thought of me?

At a signal from Leif, they raised their wands and the two ships began to move away from us, trailing a glowing wake of shifting colors. Little golden sparkles danced and swirled around the prows. Standing at the edge of the dock, Leif drew a bow and released an arrow whose shaft was carved with runes, and it flew through the air in a perfect arc. At the apex of its flight, Leona murmured a single word, and the arrowhead burst into flames. Like a shooting star it sailed across the sky and plummeted into the ship bearing Thoren's mages, setting it alight in a whoomph of flames. Then it soared up again, burning brightly, up and across the night sky to plunge into Thoren's ship. A golden bonfire leaped up around Thoren, blocking him from my view, and I must have cried out, because Ynez slipped an arm around my waist.

A hand squeezed my shoulder gently, and I looked up into Irene's drawn, grieving face. "It is the old Norse way," she said softly. I did know that much.

"Adepta," said Ynez in an equally hushed voice, "what should we be doing now? It is so...quiet."

"True," she replied. "It is because only Leif knows the proper rites and he is...not in a position to tell us." Leif's huddled, shaking form silhouetted against the fiery ships needed no explanation. "He was the youngest of those who followed Thoren from Norway, only sixteen when they came. All of them but he took part in the...today, and died. Leif wished to go, but Thoren deemed him too young. And now he cannot forgive himself for being alive."

That made two of us.

On an impulse, I covered Irene's hand with mine and said fervently, "I'll bring Thoren back. If I have to go down to Tartarus and bargain with Hades himself, I'll bring him back."

She only smiled, gave my shoulder a final pat, and silently drew away.

"Marina," Ynez began to object, but she suddenly went very still and stared at the neighboring dock. Squinting through the fiery ships' after-images, I made out Thanos' solitary figure. With his coming, a sense of passing on, of farewell pervaded the air, and his presence seemed oddly comforting and fitting. Joined in our sorrow, we all watched the ships until they had drifted far, far into the distance, until we could no longer see the light of the flames. Then Leona inclined her head gravely to Ynez and wordlessly led her House away from the harbor. Thanos had already vanished.

"Ye're no' my uncle, are ye?" Tel slurred drunkenly. I looked away from the dark horizon to find him shoving away a cat that was rubbing against his leg, Melpomene's latest peace offering. He drank deeply from a jug of ale and wobbled on his feet.

"Oh dear," said Ynez. "Ghallim, help me get him home. Marina, if you're ready?"

After straining my eyes for any glint of light on the black waves, and finding none but the reflections of the moon, I reluctantly turned my back on the harbor. For all my brave words, I had no idea how to find the underworld, much less how to persuade Hades to relinquish one of his subjects. In all the histories that I had read, only when the gods involved themselves personally did any mortal leave the realm of the dead. Out of longing for his mother, Dionysus had rescued Semele and brought her to dwell on Mount Olympus. When Tantalus butchered his young son Pelops to offer to the gods in a gory banquet, the horrified deities had acted in concert to resurrect the boy. But only a few days ago, I'd allowed Ashton to kill Athena, and now there were no other convenient Greek gods wandering around Athens. And anyway, even if there were, none of them were going to help a young orphan of no significance.


	13. Sunday March 7 to Monday March 8, 1490

**Sunday March 7 to Monday March 8, 1490**

Whoever said funerals brought closure was the god of all liars. I derived no solace from watching the Viking ships flame their way over the horizon. Astera's and Thoren's faces filled my mind as I tossed and turned in bed; they gazed reproachfully at me until I kicked off my blanket, draped a shawl over my nightgown, and tiptoed to the library to flip through and shove aside books until at last I nodded off at my desk. I might have spoken with Ynez, who had grimly eyed Astera's bedroom door before clenching her jaw and coming to ours, and who had been breathing too regularly for true sleep, but neither of us was ready to face the other.

When I woke after a few hours of tormented dreams, I felt perhaps a half moment of peace before the world came crashing down again, and Astera's and Thoren's screams rang in my mind. Echoing shrieks drifted through the window from the yard, where the mice were at play, but they failed to notice (or, more likely, pretended not to notice) as I crept between the buildings back to my room to dress. Ynez was already gone, though she'd left a note on my pillow saying she planned to visit Avaris at the Bouleuterion and that I shouldn't expect her for lunch. Stumbling listlessly back into the hallway, I ran into a hungover and depressed Tel, who told me he was going hunting with Ghallim to console himself. In a dead tone, more out of habit than genuine concern, I told him to stay safe. The practical aspects of running the orphanage did provide a welcome distraction, although Mother Doria's foul mood and Calla's grief triggered another crying spell on my part, and in the end I fled back into the library to curl up in a corner and brood to my heart's content. The mice didn't need my supervision to eat lunch, after all.

I had my hands over my face and was rocking back and forth when Gordon found me. "Marina," he said, and he had the kindness to pretend that everything was completely normal. He didn't even offer me a handkerchief (although, come to think of it, his handkerchiefs were all in the laundry basket. Note to self: Make sure the laundry gets done today, or none of us will have any clean clothing left, and then we'll really make a great impression on the other Houses).

I wiped my nose across my sleeve, leaving a slimy trail, and croaked, "Gordon. Did you need something?"

Perching on the edge of my desk and swinging his legs, he said without preamble, "Yes. Your help. Astera had a plan before she died."

Before she died. Even Gordon said she was dead, Gordon who was an ancient god…. Mother, why were we so distant from each other these last couple years? I thought I had all the time in the world for my awkward, almost-but-not-quite-adult phase.

"Thanos has knowledge that we need — a key to the paths that would, um, help control the Plague. But he refused to give it to her when she asked, so we need to put him on the loom to extract it."

I jumped up and began pacing. "A way to control the Plague? Why hasn't he shared it already? He keeps saying he's here to save the city. Who _is_ he anyway? He said he's not really Solificati."

"No, he isn't. He's ancient and powerful. He's — like us."

A number of facts began to click into place. The root of the name "Thanos," his association with cypress trees, his presence at the funeral last night, the atmosphere he had brought…. "Are you telling me that Thanos is _Hades_?" I squeaked.

Gordon nodded reluctantly. "That is one of the names he goes by, yes. And he holds the key to the paths to the underworld."

Oh gods, only last night I had mourned that there were no convenient Greek gods around. Be careful what you wish for — not only was the King of Tartarus himself in town, but I had yelled at him and accused him of lying! Perhaps the lesson to be drawn from the entire affair was "Don't lose your temper and shout at people. They might be your gods." A bit late for that now. In a strangled voice, I asked Gordon, "How exactly does having the key to the paths to the underworld help control the Plague?"

"Well, maybe not that part specifically. It's more that his knowledge can open doors, and that's what we need." Which was just like a god's response — cryptic and unhelpful. "But it would certainly allow us to bring back people who have died." Thoren. I had sworn to brave Tartarus itself to find him if necessary. And Gordon had just handed me the means to do it. "I _am_ sorry about Thoren."

That was the last sentiment I expected from any of the mice. "But...why? He attacked us."

Gordon shrugged. "I have lived a long time, and these things happen sometimes. He meant well. I bear him no ill will."

That reminded me of a question I had: "If Ashton is a lynx and Sy is a street urchin and Jamie is a fox, which god are you?"

To my surprise, he blushed a little and squirmed uncomfortably, the way Ynez and many other mages did when questioned about their avatars. (Tel and I were unusual in how openly we discussed ours. Maybe because the manner in which we had acquired them was so unconventional.) "Marina," he protested, "that's kind of like asking you about your sex life!" Then he sat back and smirked while I choked and coughed and hacked out the saliva that had slipped down my windpipe. When I could breathe again, he said, "But I'll think about it."

"About my _sex life_?" I cried.

"Yes." He smirked again. "No, of course not. I'll think about whether I'll answer your question." I regretted ever having even considered asking him that question. If I lived to be a hundred years old, I'd never ask any other godling that question ever again. "Anyway, we're getting distracted. We need your help with Thanos."

My knees began to shake, and I had to feel my way back to my chair and thump down into it. "What's the plan?" I asked, as intense as Ynez at her best.

"We can't discuss it much, because he's a master of Ars Temporis and will easily predict any traps we lay. But Astera saw this much: Thanos will approach Ynez about...something. You should encourage her to work with him, and when he comes, we'll put him on the loom." I opened my mouth to ask why we couldn't just tell Ynez to lure him here. "You can't tell _anyone_ , though, especially Ynez. She has to be entirely honest when dealing with him, otherwise every path forward will be fatal."

Slowly, I nodded. I hated keeping secrets, and I hated manipulating anyone, but Ynez _was_ a terrible liar. Just look at what happened when we let her speak at the Areopagus. She basically accused _herself_ of murder! "Yes. I can do that. But — maybe I'm missing something — if Thanos is a master of Ars Temporis, shouldn't he see that regardless of her intention, he'll end up on the loom if he comes here?"

Gordon chuckled. "Astera was also a mistress of Ars Temporis," he reminded me. "She set up a ward against him, albeit an imperfect one, so that we still need to take every precaution...seriously, weren't you paying any attention when she taught us basic temporal warding theory?"

"Ummmm." That might have been the lecture the day after Cly introduced me to Caesar's _Commentaries_ , and I'd secretly read the book under my desk until Astera caught me and gave me one of her disappointed looks. Apparently I'd missed quite a bit while Labienus, Caesar's former lieutenant, was shouting, "Then stop talking about a settlement; for there can be no peace for us until Caesar's head is brought in!" which I still thought was one of the best lines in Roman literature.

Patiently, Gordon recited, "In order for Astera's ward to work, Thanos needs to have a reasonable chance of success overall. We need to maximize the fluctuations, the uncertainty around the event — that's where _our_ chance of success lies. Remember all those arithmancy problems she made us do, using the temporal runic system that House Criamon developed?" How could I forget such tedious calculations? I'd burned the problem sets afterwards as Ars Essentiae practice. "If you don't believe me, do the arithmancy yourself."

I'd pass. Happily. "I'll take your word for it. Basically, what you're saying is that the more we plan, the lower Thanos' chance of success gets and the smaller the fluctuations become. So by leaving everything uncertain, we're more likely to succeed."

"Exactly." Gordon beamed at me like a proud teacher. "There's one more thing." He must have had his mind link open, because Lil immediately entered the room. "This is the key to the entire plan." And Lil extended a pomegranate half to me — the same pomegranate half that Astera had brought back from her Ars Temporis trance. The fruit had broken apart so that all the jewel-red seed pouches were intact. When I nudged one, it felt sturdy, somehow, and I knew that it would not pop in a burst of juice.

"Keep it safe," Lil instructed. "This plan is already highly unlikely to work, as it is."

"But what is it — "

"The less we discuss it, the better," Gordon reminded me. "Just keep it safe."

Obediently, I accepted the artifact and tucked it into a pocket in my satchel, next to the pocket that held Thoren's communications stone.

* * *

The opportunity to put Gordon's — Astera's — no, _our_ plan into action came sooner than expected. Over a late, burned dinner (Mother Doria's mood hadn't improved, and the tough, dry chicken and stringy vegetables reflected it), Ynez reported that she'd met Thanos on her way home from the Bouleuterion. He already knew about the demon in the Hearth — I supposed that the king of the underworld _would_ know about malevolent, flaming spirits — and he also knew that it had been there since the beginning of House Criamon. Bound to the Hearthstone by ancient enchantments, now it was trying to break free.

"Eef eet eez as evil as you say, and eef eet wishes to escape, maybe eet eez destabilizing ze city," Ghallim suggested.

"That's what Thanos said," Ynez told him, "and Astera also suspected it. They both thought that the Plague might be feeding off the demon via the Aegis, although I don't know how that could happen."

But I remembered the night the Aegis nearly fell, the night of Tiberius and the Plague child, and the way the Plague vines had grown up the outside of the city wall and touched the Aegis with their tips. When I reminded the others, their faces grew troubled. (All but Tel's — he was woodenly breaking off pieces of bread to feed the dogs under the table. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it.) I went back to pushing the chicken around on my plate.

"A lot of the runes near the Hearthstone are Resonance filters," said Ynez slowly, absentmindedly sawing away at her vegetables. "They're ancient and starting to grow corrupted…."

I didn't like where her thought was leading. If this demon spirit wanted to escape, if the runes could no longer filter out all traces of its malevolence, if it powered the Aegis, then what better way to destabilize Athens than to weaken and destroy our shield? And House Bonisagus didn't have anyone even approaching Thoren's ability to adapt and update it.

The last time Thanos attempted to save the city, he'd removed House Bjornaer from events for several crucial days. What would he do this time? "What did Thanos want?" I asked, savagely spearing a mummified piece of carrot. Although I wasn't the least bit hungry, I couldn't bear to waste food. Even food that was closer to charcoal.

"He claims he can remove it from the world."

"Hmmmm" was Ghallim's skeptical response, which about summed up my opinion of Thanos' good intentions.

Still, here was the opportunity Gordon had mentioned — the chance for us to lure Thanos here so we could trap him and extract his knowledge. But I had to be subtle about it — if I suddenly championed his cause or, worse, appeared to trust him, they'd instantly suspect mind control. I couldn't risk having Ynez read my thoughts. Tentatively, as though fearing she'd refuse to answer as Astera certainly would have, I asked, "What would it mean for House Criamon if the demon is removed?"

Ynez shrugged. "I imagine we'd be a lot less powerful and influential."

In other words, we actually would become the least of the Hermetic Houses in Athens, but that didn't seem like too bad of a trade for a stable city full of live human beings. Cautiously, feigning reluctance, I suggested, "Maybe we should talk to Thanos more then?" My frown of distaste for the entire affair was sincere, and I hoped that the others assumed it was simply over the prospect of cooperating with Thanos again. Rather like Ynez, I wasn't particularly skilled at deception.

Luckily, the suspicion that I might have ulterior motives never even occurred to Ynez and Ghallim, and they agreed that further conversation with Thanos couldn't hurt. "But I want to talk to Tessa first," Ynez added. "She should be waking soon, right?"

Oh dear. Yes, yes, she should. We'd only frozen her for a week, starting last Tuesday, and it was already Sunday evening. Also, anyone in Athens with magical knowledge could sense that she was ripping apart the Effect as fast as she could. Given what I'd done to the seeds — which seemed like less and less of a good idea; I had a nasty feeling that it had been a Paradox backlash — this was _not_ a conversation I looked forward to having. She wasn't going to smile at me and feed me fruit this time. But it would be cowardly to send Ynez to the Tower of the Winds without her Secunda. Also, she couldn't fly, so how would she even enter it without me? House Bjornaer's philosophy was that if you were truly determined to talk to them — and if you were worth talking to — you'd find a way up to the balcony and door at the very top.

"'Ave you considered talking to ze spirit about what eet wants?"

Ynez recoiled from the very image. "No! Why would I talk to the demon? We know what it wants. It wants to kill us!"

Ghallim, being Ghallim, pointed out craftily, "Ah, but eef we know what eet wants, maybe we can trick eet and counter eets plans."

A querulous voice suddenly complained right in my ear, "Marina! What are you doing? You shouldn't be involved in decision making! As a historian, you're only supposed to observe and record!"

Whirling around, I saw Cly standing just behind me, scroll and pen at ready. "Of course I have to be involved in decision making," I snapped. "I'm the Secunda."  
"What!" she gasped. "When did that happen?"

"When _your_ sister got Astera killed. Maybe you should control her better!"

Although Tel couldn't hear Cly, he could certainly hear me, and at the mention of Astera and Melpomene, he stood abruptly, dumped his platter onto the floor for the dogs, and dashed out of the room as if pursued by the Furies. Licking daintily at his leftovers, Lily gave me a disapproving look before loping out after her son, but Gus and Timo happily devoured the mess and mopped the floor with their tongues.

Cly folded her arms across her chest, the scroll and quill vanishing conveniently. "All these years spent training you to be a proper historian — wasted! Didn't you _observe_ anything in the Hearth? Mel killed Thoren, not Astera."

Why did Ynez get the avatar who would actually comfort her? Why did I get the one who couldn't even fake sympathy? "And do you really believe that the Greek Muse of _Tragedy_ had nothing to do with the Greek tragedy down in the caves?"

My avatar waved her arms in frustration. "You can't make assumptions like that without facts! That's what Herodotus did, and you know we have to burn everything he contaminated!" I knew nothing of the sort — if she wanted a fact, the fact was that she'd caused me untold grief with her book-burning campaign. But she didn't let me speak. "All we observed was that Thoren unraveled the ties bonding Despina and Astera, then you threw a bind around him, and finally Tel tried to heal him and Mel killed him. Those are the facts. Only a very bad historian would _try_ to associate these indirect causal connections with a claim as direct as 'Mel got Astera killed' — and I have no time for bad historians. Haven't you learned _anything_?"

"Apparently not," I shot back. "Maybe you're just a bad teacher."

"Well, I never!" huffed Cly. "Get back to your discussion then!" And she vanished in an offended pop.

Great. Now I'd hurt Tel's feelings _again_ , angered his mother, failed to manipulate Ynez into luring, er, inviting Thanos here, _and_ offended my avatar. Tears of helpless anger pricking at my eyes, I also shoved my chair back and fled to our bedroom to throw myself across my bed and sob until Hypnos lulled me to sleep.

* * *

When I woke the next morning, it was again to that fleeting moment of peace before memory crushed it out of existence, and I lay in bed, tears leaking from my eyes, much longer than usual. At last, it was Timo's needs, and his increasingly insistent pawing and whining, that forced me into motion, and I slowly dressed and followed him into the yard. Throughout Athens, the clocks were just striking 6:00, like that morning only a week ago when I had nothing more on my mind than stealing a private moment before herding all the children to class on time. Just as I had on that long-ago morning, I walked to the edge of the yard and gazed out across the slumbering city. Next door was Ghallim's temple of Athena, cloaked in shadows from neighboring buildings and its olive grove. To the southeast rose the Acropolis, the Parthenon gleaming in the first light of day as it had for so many centuries, without regard for transient human concerns. Directly to the east, the top of the Tower of the Winds caught the first rays of the sun and shone like gold, only the faintest tracery of blue lightning twinkling feebly along its walls. Only the faintest sparks of Thanos' ritual remaining….

Thoren's lessons had stood me in such good stead over the past couple days. An Ars Vis scan told me that the Ars Temporis Effect was on the verge of cracking, and common sense added that if we wanted to talk to Tessa in private, now was the time. Just as I had on that long-ago morning, I rousted Ynez and Tel from their warm beds; but unlike that morning, they came willingly. Approaching from the temple of Athena, Ghallim fell into step with us at the edge of the yard, and together we made our way through the somnolent city to the Tower of the Winds. Even from a few streets away, the breeze brought the stench that Leona had demonstrated so emphatically at the Parthenon.

By the time we arrived at the Tower's base, only a few sparkles of blue winked here and there from crevices in the marble. When I touched one with a tentative finger, it buzzed just the slightest bit and hurt not at all. Since the Bjornaer mages could all adopt animal forms at will and flew or climbed to the top, the Tower of the Winds had no doors or windows near the bottom, but here and there the marble bore deep gouges from sharp claws. The gashes formed uneven, hazardous handholds. House Bjornaer might as well have painted a proclamation running down the length of their tower saying "No Sleepers Need Apply."

"Is there a doorbell? How do we get up?" Ynez asked Tel.

Recovering a hint of his old energy now that he was so close to Verrus, Tel eagerly placed his hands against the wall to demonstrate. "Like this," he said — and promptly changed into a beautiful pale red gecko whose color complemented the gold-and-ivory shades of the Tower perfectly. In her capriciousness, Melpomene appeared to have adopted a color scheme for him. She should have been a painter, that profession disdained by our ancestors.

Hands and feet sticking easily to the walls, Tel clambered up swiftly without bothering to wait for us. Halfway to the balcony, he called back down, "Well, hurry up! They're going to wake soon!"

Lips moving as he ran through some mental calculations, Ghallim stared at the gouges. Then he took a few steps back for a running start and leaped lynx-like to the lowest gash, clinging to it by his fingertips. With his feet, he began feeling around for any kind of crevice where he could wedge his boots. Once he'd found one, he braced his toes into them, crouched slightly, and in one single motion released his fingers and bounded up to the next gash. Over and over he repeated this process, like a large cat pouncing vertically up the Tower. I was reasonably sure that Ashton was involved here, because I didn't think Ars Vis, Ars Temporis, or mercenary training taught you how to rotate gravity.

Randomly, Thoren's jibes about Criamoni recklessness came to me, but in my head I retorted that I was no Amazon, that the Tower of the Winds literally forced the use of vulgar magic, and that if he were here, he'd certainly agree. And it was his own fault that he wasn't, so I was summoning a wind disk and he could deal with it, so there.

I hoped I wasn't going crazy.

At least the wind disk worked beautifully, rising at a steady pace up the wall until it came to gentle stop at the top and bobbed lightly as Ynez and I stepped off. Twitching with impatience, Tel bounded into the Tower as soon as Ghallim heaved himself over the balcony. "Verrus! Verrus!" Tel's voice echoed back.

Since Ghallim had been here that fateful night to help shield seeds for planting, he knew his way around and led the way into a large chamber where we found Tessa frozen over a table piled high with decaying grains and corn kernels. Mold grew in great fluffy patches all over them. Her face was contorted in the middle of a shout of rage. About fifteen Bjornaer mages were scattered like statues about the room as they had been a week ago, many curled up on the floor asleep after an exhausting night of magical work. Here the odor was almost intolerable — like standing next to a garbage heap in the middle of summer.

The spell crackled and dissipated. The slumbering mages began to breathe again.

"THANOS!" Tessa finished her roar. The Bjornaer jerked awake and began to sit up, casting puzzled glances at one another, disoriented by the smell and the rotting seeds. Their Head of House glared around the chamber with wrath in her eyes. "Where is he? Every time he shows up, he brings nothing but death and destruction. I will _kill_ him — "

Ghallim sauntered over. "I second ze notion, but perhaps eet eez more urgent now to save ze seeds. I can 'elp turn back time on zem."

"How long has it been?" she demanded.

"Six days," he replied.

"Six _days_? What has been happening? This is the last time he will interfere with my work!"

Cravenly I wanted to hide behind Ynez (not that it would have helped, since I was taller), but the seeds were my fault after all and it wouldn't be fair to pawn off the explanation on her. Even if she were my Prima. "Thanos asked us to help with a ritual to — to freeze the Tower of the Winds," I began nervously. Tessa in a rage was a force of nature, merciless and implacable, akin to the fire elemental of my nightmare. "He said that we had to delay planting for a week, to buy time for Tho- for House Bonisagus to fix the Aegis. Else it would collapse."

"It's just like him to manipulate children! He's despicable, and when I see him again — "

A gosh-darn-it-I'm-a-woman-grown glint in her eye, Ynez interrupted her rant. "Prima, there is more. Two Heads of Houses are dead."

That revelation re-froze Tessa for a split second. "Who?" she demanded, although it should have been obvious.

"Thoren," I whispered, looking down at the floor and feeling the tears start again.

"Astera bani Criamon," Ynez said, meeting Tessa's stare.

For a long moment, Tessa was silent as she processed the information. Ynez used the opportunity to update her on the failing Aegis and the battle in the Hearth, finishing with, "And the demon may be breaking loose. Is there any assistance you can lend in that matter?" She was picking up diplomatic language impressively fast.

"Ahhh," said Tessa. "I'm afraid that is not within my ken."

"Wait a second," I exclaimed, turning to Ynez. "How is it that you — and Thanos — and Tessa all know about the demon, but the rest of us didn't?"

"You'd have to ask your Prima," pointed out Tessa, as Ynez scuffed a toe and mumbled, "Astera didn't want me to tell you…."

Yes, just add it to the list of all the crucial things Astera had concealed from me and Tel. Such as how we'd gone on the loom as eight-year-olds to bond with Muses, which ones we'd bonded with, why we'd chosen to do so and subsequently to forget, and how most of the children were godlings. And oh, by the way, you _used_ to know all of this, but I decided to honor a _child's_ decision to forget everything important…. When Astera — or Despina, or whoever my mother was — returned, I had _words_ for her.

While I fumed, Ghallim was poking intently at the seeds and Ynez was beseeching Tessa for advice on how to deal with the Hearth spirit and Thanos. "I cannot solve your problem," Tessa replied, not without sympathy. "But know that Thanos always brings death, wherever he goes." Urgh, I didn't want Tessa to discourage Ynez from allowing him into the Hearth! Quick — what should I say?

"But we'll all die if we don't deal with the demon," Ynez said desperately. "And we can't do it ourselves." Nope, of course we can't. That's why we need Thanos.

"Death is a path too," Tessa said matter-of-factly. "My House will deal with the seeds — " thank the gods for small favors! — "without which famine is inevitable. But as one Prima to another, I give you my best wishes. You are always welcome to seek my aid, and I will help you if I am able."

Reluctantly, looking as if responsibility were a serpent squeezing the life out of her, Ynez nodded. Then she added, "Oh, I should warn you, the Spanish Inquisition is here."

"What?" Tessa cried. "When? How many of them?"

As Ynez explained about Zoe and Father Emmanuel and the Inquisitors, Tel's voice drifted into the room, steadily increasing in volume. He and Verrus appeared in the doorway, Verrus prowling along like a proud lion, Tel scampering beside him and gesticulating passionately. "Yes! It's been such an awful week! And did you know we have a demon chained up in the Hearth? And it's trying to break free now, and we think it's destabilizing the city in order to do it — oh, and the Plague is probably drawing power from it through the Aegis — " The all-too-awake Bjornaer mages began buzzing like bees over these revelations.

"Tel!" I hissed at him. "Those are House secrets!"

He waved his arms in distress. "They are? See? Why do people tell me these things? I don't know what's supposed to be a secret and what isn't!"

"Speaking of secrets," said Tessa ominously. Without using any Foci — just like Thanos — she swept her arm over the seeds and a swarm of blackened corn kernels spun into the air to circle my head, nearly making me vomit from the stench. As I gagged and tried valiantly to stay upright, she asked dangerously, "Marina?"

Coughing, I twisted my fingers into my skirts and confessed, "I did it. I'm sorry, Magistra."

"And can you enlighten me as to _why_?"

Gods, she sounded the way Astera had when I was five and broke a plate and tried to hide the pieces. My mother was infuriated not by the loss of an old, chipped piece of pottery but by the deception, and she'd told me so. Loudly. And at length. And then grounded me for a week. "I — I tested Thanos' statement with Ars Fati." Pierced by Tessa's glare, all memory fled my head. "What was it again?" I gave Ynez a pleading look.

My sister and Prima rushed to my succor. "He said that disaster would come to pass if we did not delay the planting for a week," she recited promptly.

I faced Tessa again. "Yes, that. And — and Ars Fati told me that — that disaster would befall us if you _ever_ planted. And — and — " I trailed off as she stalked towards me.

Looming over me — she was _tall_! — she hissed, "And you _trusted_ it? Didn't Astera teach you that Ars Fati is uncertain at best? Clearly not. And in the middle of a ritual of such power — to risk it — to trust it _blindly_ — "

My sister suddenly slammed a hand on the table, making the remaining seeds (and the other Bjornaer mages) jump. "You will not bully my Secunda!" she shouted. I drew a shaky, shallow breath and cast a look full of gratitude in her direction. If I could no longer seek refuge in Astera's skirts, I'd happily hide in Ynez's! "Magistra Tessa, we were exhausted, we did not sleep much, and we met a man who was very very certain that if we did not immediately do as he wanted, then disaster would befall our city!"

To my relief, Tessa stepped back from me and recalled her seeds. "And Thanos is, of course, a master of manipulation." She stared appraisingly and approvingly at Ynez. "You remind me of my daughter. Thanos is keeping her captive…. Well."

A thought was slowly poking into my consciousness like a sprout breaking through the soil. Thanos was Hades, and Thanos used no Foci, and he was holding Tessa's daughter captive. Tessa also used no Foci and specialized in seeds and planting…. "Magistra, can I speak with you?" I asked suddenly.

She glared down at me, and I felt like a five-year-old hiding a broken plate behind my back. "Yes, but quickly. I don't have much time."

"In private?"

She heaved a sigh that suggested she was humoring a child's whims, and led me to an empty storage room, shutting the door on everyone's perplexed expressions. I'd have to find a good excuse for Ynez later. "What is it?" the Head of House Bjornaer, who was as much Bjornaer as Thanos was Solificati, asked neutrally.

I took a deep breath and said, "I think — I think I know who you are."

Her face showed only polite interest. "I have gone by many names."

Without bothering to consult with Ars Fati, I gambled and pulled the pomegranate half from my satchel. Cupping it in one hand, I held it out between us like a sacred offering.

She gasped audibly. "Where did you get that?" she breathed.

"Do you recognize it?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, of course. I have a plan — but we can't talk more. Put that away before it weakens the Ars Temporis ward of she who set these events in motion."

I obeyed, hoping that my gamble hadn't given the mice away to Thanos. But Gordon and Lil hadn't told me what the pomegranate was for, and Tessa was patently connected to the entire business, and I'd had to _try._

"I just want to get Thoren back," I said, striving for firmness but achieving only pathos.

"Yes, and I am willing to help you. But we must not speak more of it!" That seemed to be a good of a promise as any that you could extract from the gods. Before she led me back into the chamber again, though, she had a final question for me: "What do you know of the Eleusinian mysteries?"

Caught off guard, I searched my memories for anything I had read about them. They were associated with Demeter, of course, and corn and crops. But not for nothing were they called the "mysteries," for the rites were a sacred secret. "Not much," I admitted.

"Then I suggest you learn everything you can about them," she advised, and I nodded obediently and followed her back in a worried mood. Just last night I'd despaired of finding any of my gods, helpful or otherwise, and here I was tangled in a feud between the goddess of the earth and the lord of the dead. If only I had the political astuteness of my namesake! (Although even Cimon had miscalculated on occasion. Oh dear.)

When Ynez and I took our leave of Demeter — er, Tessa — Ghallim insisted on staying to work on the seeds. House Bjornaer had created magically enforced strains of different crops that could resist the Plague without the aid of the Aegis, a massive undertaking that had taken years of dedication. In one ill-conceived Effect, I'd wiped out all the mother seeds, and how Tessa would mitigate the famine was a complete mystery to everyone, herself included. Although she bluntly informed Ghallim that he lacked the requisite power to turn back time and prevent my damage, he refused to leave without trying.

Tel, on the other hand, was still busy babbling away at Verrus about everything that had happened in the last six days: "Oh, and I went on a hunt with Ghallim, and I killed over five Plague bears myself…." ("You mean _six_?" muttered Ynez, whose infatuation didn't erase her ability to count to ten, and even through my preoccupation I had to choke back a laugh.) Verrus draped an affectionate arm around Tel's shoulders and pulled him close, as though he couldn't bear even an inch's separation after so many days apart, and kissed Tel's temple and praised his valor. For all that I smiled to see them reunited, and Tel's face lose its guilty cast and light up again with good cheer, it hurt to watch Tel snuggle up to his lover, and to note the way Verrus looked at him. On Ynez's face I saw a reflection of my thoughts, and both of us were grateful to step onto my wind disk and fly home.

* * *

As soon as we alighted in the yard, Helen pounced. Giving each of us a hard squeeze, she announced, "Mother Doria is _furious_. She says — " she squinched her eyes in an effort to remember the exact wording and mimicked our cook's querulous voice — "'Tell those silly children that they may be mages, but they're still human, and they'll starve to death if they don't eat!' She put bread and cheese on the dining table already. If you skip another meal, she'll kill you herself!"

Helen's cherubic sweetness could always make me smile. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of making us eat?" I feigned perplexity. "Unless she's fattening us up for the slaughter?"

Giggling, she grabbed our hands and tugged us towards the dining room. "Marina sausages and Ynez ham! Sounds deeeelicious!"

On his way into the library, Jamie rolled his eyes in her direction. "Don't be silly, Helen," he called. "We're not _cannibals_."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not the silly one!" she sang, skipping along and swinging our hands. "Mariiiiina is! She thinks she can just dance into Tartarus and convince Hades to let her boyfriend go! She forgot aaaall the stories about the Greek gods!"

"Helen." Gordon intercepted her at the door and gave her a stern, warning look, before taking her firmly by the hand. When Ynez's back was turned, he raised an eyebrow at me, and I gave him a short nod. Yes, Gordon, contrary to what Astera believed, I can keep a secret.

Indeed, he'd have been proud of my performance during the Prima-Secunda discussion over stale bread and hard cheese. Without giving anything away, I managed to convince Ynez that with the mice nearby for backup, we could safely permit Thanos to examine the outer caves. She also provided me with one more convenient Greek god option for my rescue mission when she told me that she had a spare avatar she could implant into Tel, and implied very strongly that it was Athena. Unfortunately, Ghallim-Ashton would certainly attack if they detected Athena's presence, and we agreed that it should be Tel's decision.

The two of us subsided into a companionable silence, chewing on the tough bread and mulling over our respective secrets. (If Ynez had told me everything about Thanos and the demon, I'd turn myself into sausage!) Assuming I had read the situation correctly, assuming I hadn't missed any subtle undercurrents — and I wished so badly that I could at least consult with Ghallim, who'd trained in politics at the court of the Queen of France — Hades/Thanos had imprisoned Persephone beyond the six months per year he was allowed, and Demeter/Tessa had been searching for a way to rescue her daughter. Somehow Astera had discovered the outlines of the plot and obtained the pomegranate half that was part of the operation, and planned with the mice to extract knowledge of the path to the underworld, which Demeter would need and which only Hades himself possessed.

But one thing didn't make sense — Astera's main concern would not have been a scuffle between two gods over a third. So why did she care? What did the path to Tartarus have to do with controlling the Plague?

What if Persephone's absence had _caused_ the Plague?

Oh.

It wasn't unreasonable to believe that Hades might wish to keep his captive queen with him all year round, or that he would do so if he could avoid punishment. And it was Persephone's return to earth each year that brought the spring and set the rhythm for all living things — and the Plague, as we knew too well, affected all living things, human, animal, and plant alike. What if her absence had thrown nature out of balance, and the Plague were the physical and magical manifestation of this spiritual imbalance? Then the way to end the Plague would be to free Persephone and restore the seasons.

Astera, oh Mother, I know now what you planned to do. And I swear to you — I will make it happen.


	14. Afternoon of Monday March 8, 1490

**Afternoon of Monday March 8, 1490**

By the time Ynez and I had finished the food Mother Doria had laid out, everyone else was trooping into the dining room, and Calla silently carried in another basket of burnt bread and hard cheese, as well as flasks of watered wine. I sat without speaking, moodily swirling the acidic wine around in my mug and watching it splash at the edges — until Tel threw himself into Astera's chair with a contented sigh. It was our mother's throne, as old and battered as the rest of the furniture after four centuries of rambunctious orphans, but cushioned at least, and it had presided over the adults' dining table for as long as I could remember. Not even our new Prima had dared to claim it. Ignoring her offended yelp, Tel ripped off a hunk of bread, shoved the chair all the way back with no regard for how its legs squeaked and protested across the floor, and propped his cothurnus-clad feet right next to his plate.

"Tel!" I ordered. "Get your feet off the table!"

His self-satisfied expression vanishing, he whined, "Oh, c'mon, Marina. It's been an awful week. I just want to relax."

Yes, I _knew_ it had been an awful week. It had been an awful week for _all_ of us. But you didn't see _me_ putting my dirty slippers on the dining table. "You're setting a bad example for the mice!"

Indeed, over at the children's table, Sy gleefully pushed back his child-sized chair and mimicked Tel, complete with a chunk of bread in one hand. His attempt to copy Tel's sigh failed only because he couldn't keep a straight face.

I rounded on him next. "Sy! Get your feet off the table!"

"Awwww, Mariiiiiina, it's not fair. If Tel can do it, why can't I?"

"Tel, look what you've done!" I whipped my head back and forth between the two miscreants. "Sylvester, if you don't get your feet off the table, you're washing dishes for a week!"

"Awwww, Mariiiiina, you can't do that…."

"Yes I can! I'm the one who makes the chore list." Unless Prima Ynez had assumed that aspect of my duties, which I rather doubted. "Feet off the table, or you're doing dishes for a week."

Not having been threatened with extra chores, Tel simply leaned back and watched the show. Sy, on the other hand, crossed his ankles defiantly and grinned roguishly straight at me. I could practically hear his challenge: I'm the god of street urchins — _make me_.

In all my years, I'd never been able to make Sy behave for any length of time. "Ghallim, help!"

"Well, 'ow about 'eating up ze tables?"

Excellent point. Thoren would have hated this trivial use of vulgar magic — but Thoren wasn't here because of his own extravagant display of vulgar magic, so it was his own damn fault that he couldn't stop me. Ferociously carving a small dining table, I raised the temperature of the wood under Tel's and Sy's shoes until it glowed like an ember. With indignant yelps, they yanked their sizzling feet away, thumping back down to sit properly.

"Oww!" complained Tel. "That _hurt_!"

"Mariiiiina, that was mean!" Sy sounded grudgingly impressed by my resolve. I rarely used Ars Essentiae offensively — and certainly never on the children.

" _Yes_ ," I told both of them. "Now eat your lunch!" Wonder of wonders, they actually obeyed.

But of course any semblance of a big happy _normal_ family wasn't going to last, and Ynez cleared her throat and reluctantly said over the sawing of tough bread and thumping of mugs, "So. There is still the matter of Thanos and the Hearth." And here I was thinking that as Prima and Secunda, we'd already settled it. Why did we need anyone else's approval? All I wanted was to get Thanos here, and get the loom ritual over with before anything else went wrong.

Picking up an entire flask of wine, Tel chugged it down and slammed it on the table. At the bang, three canine heads poked out from under the table to stare quizzically up at him. (Aha — Hades had a three-headed dog, Cerberus. Now I knew why Gus, Lily, and Timo had rushed out of the city to welcome Thanos.) "What's the point of doing anything?" Tel slurred, reaching unsteadily for another flask. "We'll all die anyway."

I hastily moved it to my other side as Ynez frowned at the empty air next to him. "That's Melpomene speaking," she muttered across the table at me. "She's sitting right beside him. Her very _presence_ encourages him to drink." Add alcoholism to the list of reasons we should replace his avatar!

With the flask out of reach, Tel snagged Ghallim's mug instead and drained it. "Every time Thanos 'helps,' he just causes more disasters." Oh dear — that was not how I wanted this conversation to go. Trust Tel to develop an opinion — and voice it — at the most inconvenient moment. Was the Muse of Tragedy hurling more roadblocks in my path? As if it weren't hard enough already to find a way to Hades _and_ back _with_ Thoren!

Ghallim frowned a little at Tel but let his robbery pass. "I agree," he said. "'E claimed to want to save ze city, but instead 'e will destroy eet through famine."

Well, to fair to Thanos, _he_ hadn't modified the ritual to destroy all of Tessa's mother seeds. "The famine is my fault," I muttered to my plate, hating that I spoke the truth. " _I_ was the one who botched Ars Fati."

Fortunately for my pride but unfortunately for my and the mice's plot, Ghallim was protective of his friends. "No," he said firmly. "Eet was not your fault. 'E put you in a situation where you were in over your 'ead, and you made a mistake. Eef anyone eez to blame, eet eez Thanos."

Over Ghallim's reassurances — which I'd have welcomed any other time — Tel was loudly and drunkenly trying to talk Ynez out of any kind of association with my quarry. "It's a _terrible_ idea to listen to Thanos! He's a liar! He's full of lies. He — he's probably full of _Plague_. Like that little girl we saw. Thanos is full of Plague."

"Uhhh." A rather pink Ynez was staring at her crush raptly, thrilled to have his full attention for once. "But the Aegis should have stopped him from coming into the city."

I quickly put in, "Yes — we saw him cross the Aegis, remember?" Oh wait, Tel hadn't seen it. He'd been asleep with Verrus in the Tower of the Winds during that entire ill-advised escapade.

"And you know how well the Aegis works," Tel snarled cruelly, downing _my_ mug of wine. "Just ask Thoren!"

And then I couldn't think of a single word to say.

" _Telemachus_!" snapped Ynez, sounding almost exactly like Astera, and he mumbled something that might have been an insincere apology.

There was a very long silence, during which I memorized the pattern of the wood grain on the table, and everyone else studied me while pretending not to.

At last I heaved out a shuddering breath, raised my head, and told Ynez, "I think that we still need to talk to Thanos at least. Since we can't deal with the demon on our own."

"What's the point?" demanded Tel passionately. "We'll all starve anyway. What's the difference between dying from fire and dying from famine?"

Still addressing the Prima of our House and hoping that my advice carried more weight with her than Tel's, I played on her pride and sense of duty. "Tessa and House Bjornaer are dealing with the famine. So we leave Tessa to do what she does best, and we take care of _our_ House's problems."

As I had hoped, that declaration struck a chord in her, and she nodded, straightened her back, and took the burden of the world — or at least the Hearth — back upon her shoulders. Decisively, she said, "Yes, that is what we'll have to do."

And so decreed our Prima, although Tel's expression boded ill for his acknowledgement of her authority.

To appease him, I leaned back and called to Gordon, "The mice can provide backup, right?"

He pretended to consider it. "Weeeell, Thanos is tricky, but...yes, I think we can do it."

"Just don't say I didn't warn you," Tel informed all of us.

Duly noted — and duly ignored.

* * *

After lunch, the mice started to tear out of the dining room, but I grabbed Helen and supervised as she cleared the table, pouting at me the entire time. From her reproachful tears, you'd have thought that I'd chained her deep in the Hearth for all eternity. However, Gordon himself had said that it was important to treat the mice like children, and I certainly couldn't be remiss in my duties. Ghallim lingered at the table, fiddling with a length of wire he was shaping into a new Wonder, until I'd finally shooed Helen away with the last stack of plates. Then wire and Wonder vanished, and he asked without preamble, "What do you know of Thanos?"

Oh gods, had he guessed what I was doing? From our lunch meeting, I'd determined that he and Ashton were not privy to the plan, and both Gordon and Tessa had cautioned me to keep it secret lest "every path forward prove fatal." How was that for a dire warning? But Ghallim would be such a valuable ally…. Cautiously, I probed, "Why do you ask?"

Luckily, he didn't sense anything odd in my wariness. "I keep getting zese echoes," he explained, "possibly from ze gods, but I cannot tell."

"Echoes?"

"Yes, I 'ave been seeing images of ze destruction of Athens. I get ze impression zat Thanos eez not where 'e pretends to be, or at least 'e 'as a strong anchor elsewhere." It figured that Hades would remain in the underworld and project an image of himself on earth. "Eef 'e eez not physically 'ere, I am worried zat 'e eez not as invested in saving zis city as 'e claims to be."

And he probably wasn't, but that was not my concern. I didn't care _why_ he came to the Hearth, as long as he did come. "We need to talk to him," I reiterated firmly. "You can check his body language, and I can use Ars Fati to test his statements."

Ghallim gave me a warning look. "Take eet with a grain of salt," he reminded me.

And what happened to his argument that the famine _wasn't_ my fault because I'd been tricked into it? "I _know_ ," I snapped. If Thanos fell into our trap, it would be because he hadn't suspected sufficient competence from us — and he'd be pretty close to the truth.

Blissfully ignorant of all plots to kidnap the king of the underworld, and believing that the worst he could expect from me was another Paradox backlash, Ghallim said equably, "Zen let us seek 'im. Ynez seems to know 'ow to find 'im."

* * *

Two days after House Bonisagus invaded House Criamon and the Order of Hermes nearly erupted into civil war, Athens was finally settling back into its semi-normal, post-leyline-collapse-and-frozen-Tower rhythm. Humans were infinitely adaptable, and the citizens had rapidly adjusted to impending doom by mostly ignoring it. Since there was nothing any of the Sleepers — or most of the mages, really — could do about the Aegis or the Plague, farmers continued to cart their goods to market and bakers to sell loaves of fresh bread; wealthy men still swaggered into bars with their young lovers, and aristocratic ladies swept grandly into milliners' shops to commission elegant gowns. As if in open defiance of the Plague, silks and linens dyed Aegis orange were the latest rage, and a few daring young ladies were even trimming their bodices with electric blue lace (I'd give anything to see Tessa's reaction — from a safe distance). Ynez, who — if Zoe's costume were any indication — had grown up with colorful clothing in Seville, looked a little longingly at the bright bolts of fabric and monitored Tel's reactions to the girls on the street as she led us through the city. She needn't have worried. Still drunk, he was much more focused on staying upright than flirting with anyone.

Keeping a watchful eye on Tel, Ynez abruptly demanded of Ghallim, "So what did she say to you?"

"Who?" I asked, grabbing Tel's arm and yanking him aside before he walked straight into a (stationary) cart loaded with barley. "Who's 'she'?"

Aggravatingly, both Ynez and Ghallim ignored me.

Looking only at Ynez, Ghallim said, "She claims zat Thanos eez 'er brother."

"Her _brother_?" she exclaimed.

"At least I think so. She didn't name any names, but she said 'e 'as a 'orn, lies a lot…." Ghallim shrugged expressively.

That certainly sounded like Thanos to me, and he _had_ ostensibly come to Athens on "family matters." But whom could they possibly be discussing? Who might speak to Ghallim — and worry Ynez in the process? It couldn't possibly be Tessa or Leona. Which left only — "Wait a minute!" I yelped. "Are you saying that the demon in the Hearth is Thanos' _sister_?"

Who were Hades' siblings? His brothers were Zeus and Poseidon, of course, and Hera was definitely one of his sisters — but who else was included in the gods' incestuous tangle? Trying to envision their genealogy, I stepped into my mental library and reached for a history of Mount Olympus. But instead of the book, I found myself clutching Cly's arm. Hastily releasing it, I tried to lean past her, but she blocked me again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbled. "But I warned you and warned you not to get too involved in the flow of history. You just wouldn't listen to me — and now I have to go to keep them safe."

I'd never seen my avatar so flustered, not even that one time I'd confused Darius and Cyrus in an essay. "Cly, what are you talking about? Who's 'them'? Where are you going?"

Without answering, she snatched an armful of books and fled between two bookshelves, sucking my entire library away with her to vanish in a noiseless explosion that knocked me back into the real world.

Something felt awfully different and wrong. "Cly?" Where she normally resided, an emptiness, reminiscent of a bare room, loomed in my mind. "Cly?" My voice went high pitched and terrified, and I stopped dead in the middle of a marketplace. "Ynez! Can you scan me?"

Ynez broke off her conversation with Ghallim. "For what? What's wrong?"

"I don't know! Cly said something about having to go away to keep 'them' safe. Now I can't find her!"  
Ignoring the disgruntled Athenians who had to swerve around us and who expressed their frustration with inconsiderate mages colorfully and graphically, Ynez pointed a mirror at me, nearly blinding me with reflected light. "It's strange," she said. "Normally I see all these strands of magic surrounding you. Now they're are gone…. Oh! Melpomene just flashed a bunch of images at Tel. She reminded him of all the times he told her to go away, and then she said, 'As you wished.'"

Coldness clenched my chest. Could Cly and Melpomene have _left_ us? Were we _Sleepers_ now? Avatars — even demigods woven into your mind by a bizarre spirit loom ritual — couldn't just decamp, could they? Nothing I'd read had ever suggested it, although to my shock I couldn't remember specific references anymore. To reassure myself that I could still use magic, I carved a telescope and scanned the marketplace with Ars Essentiae.

Instead of mapping the relative temperatures of everything around me, the telescope exploded into a wave of fire that poured from my hands. Stalls all around the square burst into flames and shouts of alarm pierced the air, just like in Thanos' nightmare. So I was still a mage — but what happened? This hadn't felt like a backlash, and I hadn't lost control of Ars Essentiae so calamitously in years! This was more like something Tel would do.

"Marina!" Ynez cried, grabbing my arm. "What are you doing?"

I was still too shocked for speech.

"Burning up ze marketplace, obviously," said Ghallim helpfully. "I agree zat zose fish smelled particularly — _strong_ , but I am not certain zat cooking zem will 'elp."

When I automatically reached for another piece of wood to extinguish the fire before it spread to the neighboring houses and storefronts, Ynez pushed my hands down. "No, no, let me do it!" With a few chanted runes, she contained the fire enough for the Sleeper vendors and shoppers to tackle with their water buckets. Despite House Bonisagus' best efforts to avoid vulgar magic, with so many mages in the city, Athenians were long accustomed to bizarre and destructive Paradox backlashes, and a sudden conflagration in the market wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. In fact, after the near-collapse of the Aegis, the prominent freezing of the Tower of the Winds, and the Bonisagi invasion of the Hearth and ensuing massacre, a mere fire must have been a relief.

"What happened?" Ynez repeated. "I heard Melpomene say that she's leaving."

"That's what Cly said too!" I exclaimed.

Ynez glanced past me and froze. "Tel?" she breathed.

Tel had a pimple on his nose. We'd never seen his face marred by a pimple. Tel _never_ broke out in spots, never ever ever. But now he resembled an actor who had been wearing stage makeup for too long, and it was starting to dissolve.

Ghallim examined the pimple for a moment. "Eet eez only acne," he reported.

Acne — on Tel? "What's happening to me?" he wailed, tapping the little bump. "Mel? Mel? What are you doing now?"

"Okay," said Ynez grimly. "We're going home right now to figure this out."

Eyeing the Sleepers who were still heaving buckets of water over the remaining fires, and the city guards who were heading determinedly in our direction, Ghallim said, "I think I'd better stay to deal with zis."

"Thank you," Ynez replied, and hastily herded Tel and me in the opposite direction.

As we walked, we heard Cly's voice — but she was addressing Tel instead of me. "Well, why aren't you recording the fire?" she demanded in irritation.

"Cly?" I asked, stopping abruptly. "Cly? Why are you talking to him?"

At the same time, Tel complained, "What's going on? Why is some lady telling me to record things?"

Cly acted as if she hadn't heard me at all. "Well, get a notebook! How many languages do you know? Enochian? Latin? Egyptian?"

Looking incredulous that anyone would ask a Greek person such a pointless question, Tel said, "Uhhh, Greek?"

"Ancient? Modern? Which dialects?"

"Umm, Athenian? I can rap too — does that count?" And Tel rapped out a quick account of the fire, doing quite a creditable job. If he ever decided to quit the mage business, he could become a stage performer. Except that of course Ynez and I would never let him disgrace our House in that manner. "What if I don't know how to write?" he taunted Cly.

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "We have a _long_ way to go. Get to a library right now."

"Oh, I _never_ listen to people when they tell me that."

"Well, I'm not 'people.' I'm your tutor!"

With a funereal expression on his face, Tel groaned, "It's been an _awful_ week."

"Home!" Ynez repeated, tugging at my arm. "Now!"

Back in the orphanage, she led us to the common room in the outer caves, sat us down on the threadbare couches, handed each of us a mirror, and lit candles all around us. Tel's attractiveness was very obviously fading and peeling away even as we looked at him, and my memory was full of holes. This had never happened to me, ever. I thought you had to be old — or possibly Tel — to forget things. Although you might argue that Tel had never bothered to remember them in the first place.

"Uh oh," said Ynez, staring into my mirror. "I see a bare room and pieces of Melpomene's mask."

"What?!" Tel and I yelled in unison, like a Greek chorus.

She looked into his mirror next, and instantly Cly appeared and ordered, "Get a book!"

"Cly, what have you done?" Ynez demanded.

"They were in danger!" Cly snapped. Then she rattled off a string of words in what I thought sounded like dialects of ancient and modern Greek, except to my horror I no longer understood them.

"She means Paradox," Ynez translated for me. "She was afraid that a backlash would destroy her library so she...left? I didn't know this could happen."

"But she's my avatar! How can she just leave? What happened to my memory?"

Ynez looked a little grim. "I think," she began, then paused to phrase it properly. "I think that the two of you never realized how much your abilities were tied to your avatars. Your perfect memory, Tel's perfect beauty…. This backlash only happened because you're Twin Souls."

Was that any consolation? What kind of defective Twin Souls couldn't normally share each other's Spheres but could swap avatars in a Paradox backlash? It was like we'd gotten the worst possible end of the deal.

Just then Ghallim entered, looking a little sooty. "Ze fire eez out," he reported to Ynez. "Ze guards were most displeased when zey realized 'Ouse Criamon caused ze backlash. Zey already know zat we have no money for reparations."

"Thank you for dealing with it," Ynez said sincerely and filled him in on our latest disaster.

"But I want Mel back!" Tel pleaded, something none of us had ever thought we'd hear him say. "Can't you use the loom thingy to swap us back?"

"We shouldn't use the loom on a Paradox backlash," Ynez reminded him. "It would be catastrophic."

In my mirror, Mel suddenly appeared wearing a perfectly whole mask, smiling beatifically.

"Ze Muse of Tragedy would love to have disaster 'eaped on 'er," Ghallim remarked. "Perhaps we should pile eet on 'er until she tires of eet and leaves!"

"Uhhhhhh." Somehow I didn't think it would discourage Mel. And I didn't feel like living out a tragic play.

"Well, let me demonstrate!" And he dramatically described the coming doom — the Aegis stones falling one by one under the onslaught of the Plague, the fires surging in from the wall towards the heart of the city to meet an explosion of flame from the Hearth that would mingle with and fan the Plague to greater destruction. Throughout his recital, Mel smiled approvingly and mimed out a Greek chorus to accompany him. This was just lovely. If they got along so well, Ghallim could have her. I'd take Ashton and his insatiable hunger for rabbits.

"Ynez, does this mean I can't do any magic until the backlash fades?"

Ghallim interrupted her response, "Of course you can still do magic! You just 'ave to make sure zat all ze outcomes are either good or bad!"

His phrasing reminded Tel of Ars Fati, and how he might be able to use it now that he had my avatar. "Roses are red, violets are blue, it's a bad poem if it doesn't rhyme, right?" Then he tried to work an Effect, but Cly kept reciting the Enochian alphabet at him and distracting him.

"Cly," sighed Ynez wearily. "Please, have patience with him? He's had a rough week."

"Fine," Cly echoed her defeated tone. "I suppose I can record events myself."

Tel, in the meantime, had excavated an old notebook from under the sofa and was scrawling "Clyde is anoying" across an entire page. With a triumphant expression, he held it up to the mirror. We heard an indignant gasp, at either the sentiment or the spelling errors. Or possibly both.

I'd been staring blankly at the candles, trying to imagine abstaining from magic even for a few days. I used it for practically everything, from everyday transportation to verification of Sy's more extravagant claims. I wielded it as naturally as I breathed. And for as long as I could remember, I'd taken near-sinful pride in my eidetic memory. Even if I were no longer the orphanage's resident child prodigy, I was its resident encyclopedia. Basically, my identity was entirely bound up with my abilities, and now I was a mage who couldn't do magic, a historian who couldn't remember history, a librarian who had no books. What was the point of my existence?

Someone standing just behind me laid a compassionate hand on my head.

"Eez eet just me, or eez Marina getting prettier?" Ghallim asked suddenly, staring at me.

"That's Melpomene, I think," said Ynez.

To my horror, some Effect — something Ars Animae? — flew out of me at Tel. Before our very eyes, he became a little more handsome again. "Did — did I just do that?" My voice wavered fearfully. Losing control of my own magic was absolutely terrifying.

"I suggest not doing anything until the backlash wears off," Tel said authoritatively, sounding an awful lot like me.

So we were back to my original question, the one I had posed after Astera first admitted that I'd gone on the loom: How much of what I thought, what I felt, what I knew was _me_ , and how much was my demigod avatar? Just a few days ago, I'd finally concluded that most of my personality was the original Marina, and Cly just shared my head and my interests and enabled me to do magic. Now I was learning in the most definitive way possible that everything that defined me was actually her. So who was I? What was I? Did I even have an identity independent of my avatar? Or had the loom erased it to create a clean slate for the Muse? Ghallim _had_ changed markedly after he bonded with Ashton…. If I needed to be someone else, please, let it not be the Muse of Tragedy.

"Ynez," I begged, "Can we swap Mel with you-know-who?"

"I really don't want to use the loom on you in the middle of a backlash," she hedged. That made — sense. Maybe. Probably? I scraped my mind for what I _knew_ I used to know about Paradox and Ars Manes and found nothing. Cly had taken everything. "Let's wait a few days to see if it fades. Maybe — maybe we can find one of the other Muses? We'll see."

Other Muses? Let's see — there was the Muse of Comedy, for sure, and the Muse of Erotic Poetry, and the Muse of Astronomy. But there should be nine total, and I could not for the life of me list the rest. With a groan of frustration, I bowed my head and stared into my lap. From my knees, the mirror flashed up at me, showing me my reflection — an unbelievably beautiful girl, one whose smile could seduce any mortal or god, whose tears could launch a thousand Viking ships. In the depths of my despair, a thought stirred, and it whispered in Mel's voice, "Well, at least I'm pretty now…."

And another thought: "So can I charm people into letting me have my way?"

Ynez's voice interrupted my reverie. "Ghallim, where are you going?" she called urgently.

No response but a closing door.

I was too busy running my fingers through my now-glossy locks and admiring their sheen, but Ynez ran over to the door, pulled it open, and stuck her head into the corridor. "Okay," she told us, "he is _not_ going to the Hearthstone by himself."

Since no one wanted to risk a ward _I_ made, Ynez cast an Ars Essentiae shield and hurried us along deep into the caves, heading ever closer to the Hearthstone chamber. In the distance, Ghallim paused for a moment and waved at us but didn't wait before rounding a bend. The part of me not distracted by Ynez's ward, which had a gauzy, itchy quality to it — definitely not up to my usual standards — noticed that the Hearth flames weren't as terrible as usual (which was probably why Ynez's shield was holding). Waves of an ominous, waiting sensation broke over us, as if the demon — or god — were deliberately withholding the fires in anticipation. When we finally caught up to Ghallim in the chamber where the battle against House Bonisagus had raged, he set an Artes Vis and Temporis ward around us. That was good, because I didn't trust Ynez's handiwork.

Then a crackling whisper, like sparks rising from a log, filled our ears. It was, as Ghallim and Ynez had described, a female voice, insofar as a hearth fire could be said to be female or a forge fire male. "How precious," it hissed and sputtered. "All four of you."

In the glare of the flames, I saw Mel stride confidently onstage from the wings, while Cly hid behind a bookshelf, clutching a scroll to her chest.

Ghallim faced the tunnel leading to the Hearthstone itself and said without a trace of fear, "You 'ave something to say to me?"

Laughter like the roar of a bonfire. The orange reflections on the walls danced in unison. "Do I have anything to say to you? You — the pitifully weak successors to she who bound me here?"

Ynez lifted her chin proudly, but I saw her clench her fingers in her skirt. "The bonds hold. And she will return."

"Yessss," sang the fires. "Yesss." The orange light and black shadows bobbed along the cave walls as if in a strong breeze. "But did you really believe these fetters were made to last for eternity?"

The heat pressed against us, and I itched to strengthen our wards. But I remembered the _last_ time Mel had done magic in this chamber. To distract myself, I demanded, "Who _are_ you?"

For a terrifying moment, the flames surrounded and blinded me, and I had just enough time to panic that the demon would burn me alive. But I locked my knees and stood my ground, and then Mel held out her arms and bowed gracefully, and the fires withdrew with a crackle like applause. From the Hearthstone chamber, a roar like an oven blast proclaimed, " _I AM HESTIA_."

"You're really one of the _gods_?" I exclaimed. How had the Goddess of the Hearth ended up chained to a rock in the basement of an orphanage?

"No!" Ynez snapped. "She is not a god!"

"What _are_ you?" Ghallim asked the being in the Hearth.

The flames gave a disdainful flicker. "We are the victors, and we define how we are remembered. Gods, long-lived mortals — is there a difference?"

"Yes," said the erstwhile priest of Athena. "Zey are wiser."

"Which ones?" Hestia asked, open amusement in her voice.

"Ze gods." Having grown up with a orphanage full of them, I wasn't entirely sure I agreed, but I held my peace.

The flames flared with anger. "The gods!" they howled. "The gods! I envy them for their much vaunted wisdom, for if I'd had it, I'd never have been bound here by _her_ deception. But the reckoning is coming. The Tapestry has decreed it — and all of you will pay for these four hundred years."

Ghallim's mercenary adventuring came in handy then — he alone did not flinch. "Yes, I understand zat you wish to take revenge. But can it not be redirected away from Athens?"

Hestia had just handed me more pieces to Gordon's puzzle, but I couldn't make them fit. Without Cly's reserve of background knowledge, nothing made sense. "Redirected where?" I asked urgently. "What's going on here?"

Ynez murmured in my ear, "Despina Delios bound Hestia."

She sounded awfully sure of that. Was this one more of the secrets our mother had withheld from Tel and me for her own unfathomable reasons? And why, in all our discussions of the Hearth, had Ynez not mentioned it? I glared at my sister suspiciously. "When did you find out?"

Ynez had the grace to look a little ashamed. "Astera told me five days ago. She feared that she would not...live much longer, and she wanted me to know. Just in case."

Our conversation was interrupted by a triumphant howl from the flames: "I accept!"

"Wait!" I cried. "What just happened?"

"What deal did you make with her?" Ynez demanded. "You have no right! _I_ am the Prima of House Criamon!"

Hestia roared with laughter. "Ah, little Prima. She who bound me here is dead, but not truly — and what do you think will happen to your authority when she returns?"

Ynez practically boiled with indignation, and Ghallim opened his mouth to begin a discourse on the nature of death and resurrection. Incongruously, it was Tel who reminded us of the more pressing concern: "What deal did you make with her, Ghallim?"

"She will 'elp me 'unt Thanos. I proposed zat she redirect 'er vengeance to 'im and zen become ze city's new protector."

All around us, the flames shook their heads, side to side, side to side. "Athens will fall" came the implacable decree. "I only agreed to help warm some orphans during a cold winter. The Tapestry has built up a redressing of crimes for four hundred years and it cannot be averted. Even if I wished to preserve this city — which I do not — the Tapestry would not allow it. "

Tel shouted into the tunnel, "Can you translate that into something that's not villain speech?"

At the same time, I mused, "Astera — Despina — would _never_ break a promise. There must have been a horrible misunderstanding. We should free Hestia." As if in agreement, the flames blazed up, searing our faces and driving us all back a step.

"Marina!" Ynez objected. "If we free her, she'll kill us all!" To Tel, she hastily explained, "Avaris has an analogy for it. The Aegis is like a dam against the Plague. The higher you build the dam, the higher the water builds up outside it, and when it collapses — " She stopped abruptly.

"Ah, that sacred artifact," Hestia sneered. On the cave walls she projected an orange-and black image of the Aegis stones harnessing the Plague so that it flowed back along the leylines to bathe her in magical blight. I was so grateful that Thoren wasn't here to see the travesty she had made of his life's work.

Ynez shuddered. "Zoe might be right," she said, mostly to herself. "The roots of the Plague might really be here."

"I can make you eyes," Ghallim offered suddenly and entirely unexpectedly.

"What? Why?" Ynez shouted.

The bonfires bent and slide towards Ghallim and hissed suspiciously, "The gods do not owe debts. What do you want in return?"

"I thought you said you weren't a god," I protested, cocking my head in puzzlement.

Meanwhile, Cly was lecturing at Tel, "She was a powerful mage, but she's not entirely human anymore _and_ she fills the role of a god. The Tapestry demands a certain type of structure for those such as she. Therefore, if she wishes to maintain her power, she must act in accordance with its rules." It all sounded very mystical and confusing, and Tel lost interest halfway through and sketched a devil's face, which he labeled "Hestia," in his notebook instead. Cly started shouting at him.

Ghallim and Ashton, fortunately, had a more collegial relationship, and Ghallim relayed to us, "Ashton says not all ze gods used to be powerful mages. 'E 'imself was never mortal. Also, 'e says 'Estia does not know all things. But she eez powerful enough zat we might want to flee while we still can."

Coming out of a reverie, Ynez suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! She's talking about Paradox! Everything she said about the Tapestry and vengeance — she just means that Paradox will eat Athens."

And we knew just how disastrous Paradox could be. But perhaps a mage so powerful that she had turned into a god — one of my gods, in fact — could mitigate the damage. "Would you ever forgive us?" I asked Hestia.

"It is not you I am angry at. Despina has lied to and enslaved you just as she lied to and enslaved me. But I am fire, and fire does not forgive!"

On those last words, the flames along the walls exploded into fire elementals, similar to the one I'd seen at the Parthenon in my nightmare. If that one had been a forest fire, then these were the bonfires in which Plague victims were burned. They were smaller, yes, but still they forced sharp talons through the holes in our wards — no, Marina, don't do magic, don't do magic, please Mel, don't do anything — and Ynez shrieked in pain as she drove them back. Her gauzy shield began to rip.

Doing the mental equivalent of hurling Mel away from me, I braced myself against the heat and yelled past the fire elementals, "What about Persephone? What do you know about her?"

"Persephone?" Hestia said dismissively, withdrawing the flames slightly. "She hasn't been seen for two thousand years. _He_ promised to return her every year but couldn't deliver."

And she burst into a gale of laughter that fanned the bonfire elementals into forest fire elementals that towered over us and tore hunks out of our wards. Ghallim and Ynez both screamed as they fought to hold up the shields.

In a voice roughened by pain, Ghallim shouted at the fire elementals, "I propose zat I make you eyes in exchange for you burning Thanos — and me in ze end eef you wish!"

"Ghallim! Don't! Why?" I cried, but the scorching winds carried away my voice.

The fire elementals' faces contorted into smiles of triumph and inhuman cruelty, and they roared towards us in one massive wall. All around us, our wards caught fire and blazed up.

"Out! Out! Out!" I couldn't even tell if Ghallim or Ynez or Tel or I screamed the words, but clutching at one another's hands and clothing, we scrambled desperately up the tunnels, towards the yard and sunlight and safety, turning corners wildly and dodging fireballs that Hestia hurled in our path, the fire elementals always howling just a hair's breadth from our backs.

After what felt like an eternity — or four hundred years — a final wave of heat scorched our hair and skin and threw us out into the yard. One last fire elemental lunged for the grass before it struck the limits of Despina's chains, and was dragged back into the Hearth.

It took long moments before we caught our breath. I found that I was weeping burning tears of rage against my impotence.

From force of habit, Ynez turned to the erstwhile human library and asked, "What was that about Persephone? I know the myth says that she returns every spring, but what else is there?"

Try as I might, I no longer remembered and shook my head sadly.

Cly, on the other hand, perked right up and jabbered at Tel, "Oh! Oh! I know all about Persephone! I can tell you! What do you want to know?"

Scrawling more misspelled sentences in his notebook, Tel didn't even bother to look up. "Nothing," he told her flatly. "I'm not interested."


	15. Evening of Monday March 8, 1490

**Evening of Monday March 8, 1490**

Surveying our scorched, exhausted little party, Ynez came to the obvious conclusion that we were not in an optimal mental state for negotiating with Thanos, and decided to visit Tessa again for advice. I, on the other hand, opted to stay home — I was filled by the oddest desire to compose love poetry to Thoren while watching the Aegis collapse. In the end, Tel was the one who accompanied Ynez, ostensibly to help her up the Tower but mostly to seek consolation in Verrus' arms. (Although Verrus was vain and shallow, and I suspected that he wouldn't react well to Tel's new ordinariness. But I didn't say anything.) Thrilled to spend any time alone with her idol, Ynez happily scampered off with Tel, darting furtive, hopeful looks up at his face and struggling to match his long strides. _She_ cared little about his appearance, but _he_ would never consider her anything more than a baby sister.

After the mismatched pair had vanished into the dusk, Ghallim nudged me and said, "I'm going to the Acropolis to look at Thoren's notes. Weren't you interested?"

"Oh, yes! Of course!" If I could no longer speak to Thoren myself, reading his notes would be almost like hearing his voice again. I hoped.

After all the _new_ calamities confronting House Criamon, the familiarity of the Acropolis hugged me like a cozy blanket. The full-scale panic of Saturday afternoon had worn off, and mages and apprentices bustled about with their usual self-importance. Although all but one of the Norwegians were gone, local recruits had outnumbered Thoren's original followers from the earliest days, and the absence of tall, blond northerners was less jarring than I'd expected. From the edge of my mind, I thought I heard a sigh of disappointment.

Even if I no longer had an eidetic memory, I knew very well where Leona's workroom was, and I led Ghallim straight there. Just as Thoren's office had once been the hub of House Bonisagus, so now mages flowed in a steady stream in and out of Leona's quarters. A harried-looking Initiate, who claimed to be her new private secretary, imperiously informed us that we needed an appointment to see the Prima (seriously? An appointment? It was just like Leona to impose unnecessary bureaucracy when Thoren had managed fine without it). But I smiled tentatively and explained, "Ghallim is an expert in Ars Vis, and I know something of it, and the Prima has asked us to look over Thoren's notes. We only need a moment of her time."

Somewhat to her own surprise, the Initiate found herself smiling back at me. "Why, of course, Adepta. I'll show you in at once."

Ghallim stared at me for a moment, then hastily hid a smirk.

Wow, that was incredibly empowering! Was this how Tel felt all the time? He just lifted the corners of his lips ever so slightly — and people tripped over themselves to cater to his whims? I might need to experiment more.

Once inside Leona's workroom, we found the Prima seated behind her desk, surrounded by a tight knot of senior mages (all standing, I noticed) who were speaking in tense, grim tones and gesturing intensely at documents. "Adepta Marina bani Criamon and Ghallim Favager of the priesthood of Athena," announced the Initiate before she left us, her gaze lingering on my face.

Leona looked up, frowning, and taking their cue from her, the other mages turned as one to glower at the interlopers. Three of them I recognized instantly — Leif, who regarded me with haunted eyes; Georgios, who scowled (come on — those monster leeches weren't _my_ fault!); and Nitsa, who sniffed and cast me a contemptuous glance. What would Tel do? Probably act inappropriately cheerful and clueless. But it would _work._

So I gave it my best shot. Bestowing a dazzling smile indiscriminately on all the Bonisagi, I greeted them brightly, "Hi! Prima Leona, Adepti, Adeptae." I even waved a little.

Leif's jaw dropped, Georgios surreptitiously straightened his robes, and Nitsa actually smiled at me. "Good evening, Marina," she said. "How are the Ars Conjunctionis wards on the library?"

"Oh, they're just _great_!" I replied enthusiastically, and she preened a little.

As at the Areopagus, Leona was the least affected by personal magnetism. With only the faintest smile hovering over her lips, she steepled her fingers and examined me closely. Then, with a deliberate motion, almost as if she were making a point of rejecting my charm offense, she addressed Ghallim. "What may I do for you today?"

"Ah, I am glad zat you asked — zere are many things zat you may do for me," he started to ramble. Then he caught sight of her frown and finished more concisely, "You wished me to take a look at ze notes on ze Aegis. I am 'ere to see 'ow I may be of assistance to 'Ouse Bonisagus."

"And Marina, no doubt, is even more eager to see the notes," Leona concluded drily.

I gave her a pleading expression, trying to channel Helen this time.

Shaking her head with the resigned amusement I'd seen so many times on Astera's face when she gave Tel yet another extension on his homework, Leona rose from her desk. "Carry on," she ordered the others. "I'll be back shortly."

And the Prima of House Bonisagus escorted us to Thoren's workroom in person, opening the door herself and showing us in. As I entered, I blinked, disoriented by all the changes. Where once Thoren's desk had dominated the room, and the life of House Bonisagus had bowed before it, now a good half-dozen mages hunched over pupil's desks, consulting large leather-bound volumes and scribbling calculations furiously. Relegated to a dark back corner, Thoren's desk now patiently bore stacks of more leather-bound notebooks as well as messy piles of parchment. All of his Wonders, including the model of the Aegis, had vanished. Did it hurt more or less to see his workroom so altered? I couldn't decide. Not that I had a voice in the matter anyway.

Clapping her hands briskly, Leona introduced us — the Bonisagi scholars nodded politely and immediately returned to their work — and assigned us to empty desks. "Thoren left detailed notes, but unfortunately they were not intended for didactic purposes," she explained. "We are redoing his calculations systematically to build up a picture of his logic and plans. The books on his desk are the ones that we still need to go through. You can start with those," she informed Ghallim.

He nodded. "Zat sounds most wise," he complimented her. Then he sauntered over to the pile to skim through notebooks.

Before I could follow, Leona whispered in my ear, "When everything settles down, Marina, you'll have to explain — _this_ — to me." And she gestured at my new face and figure.

Peeking coyly at her through my eyelashes, I suggested softly, "You might want to study the effects of Paradox, Magistra."

With a startled chuckle, she left us to our studies.

* * *

Once again, I was reminded of just how much my old self was Cly. Only yesterday, I'd have happily stayed in the workroom forever to peruse Thoren's notes and commune with him through the medium of his work. Now — sitting still and reading took so much _effort_. I flipped through a few books, admiring his handwriting and marveling at his schematics. Contrary to my accusation, Thoren had designed and constructed an impressive number of safeguards and redundancies — the Aegis was an engineering masterpiece on par with the Roman aqueducts. That it had survived its creator's death this long was a testament to his genius. Even though it was deteriorating faster than the Bonisagi could repair it, the Aegis should shield us for a couple more months — barring another catastrophe, such as a possessed Assemblyman sucking power from an Aegis stone, or a group of Criamoni mages draining the Hearth for a loom ritual. Which Ynez had promised to do if this backlash didn't resolve itself in a few days.

After an hour of note-taking and cross-referencing and repeatedly checking details I _knew_ I'd already read at least once, I grew frustrated with my — no, Tel's — no, Mel's memory — why didn't everyone have perfect recall? — and decided to stretch my legs a little. Leaving Ghallim in the workroom, I wandered around the Acropolis, admiring the cobalt hue of the sky as night fell and the yellow orbs of torches against the marble walls, and my feet carried me to Hadrian's Library. Tessa had basically ordered me to learn more about the Eleusinian mysteries, and I wanted to research Hades before I charged in with my Foci. Even though I wasn't a Bonisagus mage and Thoren's note had only authorized me to borrow _Enochian Runes for Neophytes_ (which I hadn't even returned yet), I thought I could whack Irene with my beauty and stun her into forgetting her own regulations.

Presiding over the northern side of the Acropolis, Hadrian's Library occupied a space as cavernous as a forest, with high ceilings stretching away to infinity. During the day, you could barely make out the rafters; at night, the candlelight struggled to illumine the walls above a man's height. Rows upon rows of bookshelves radiated away from the weak yellow light into the shadowy depths. Unlike in my little library, there were no reading desks or even chairs for visitors — Irene discouraged loitering. You were supposed to enter and tell her what you wanted. If she deemed you of sufficient moral character to guard her books with your life and _return them on time_ , she'd order you to wait in front of her desk like a schoolchild, rise regally, and stalk off into the shelves. (If you were accompanied by Leona, and Irene happened to be in a good mood, you might be permitted past the desk.) Before she bestowed the book upon you, Irene would pull out a huge ledger and ceremoniously enter your name and Hermetic rank in beautiful penmanship with an aggressively plumed pen, and force you to recite an oath to return the book on time in exactly the same condition as it was presently. Only then would she finally hand it to you, with a great deal more care than most mothers held their newborns. After that she expected you to leave immediately so she could get back to the world-changing task of cataloguing all her manuscripts.

When I stepped into the foyer, Irene glowered at me from behind the massive desk that faced the heavy double doors. Though it seemed discordant for the House Bonisagus Secunda to hold court in the library she actively discouraged people from entering, I guessed that no one had the courage or force of will to extract her. "Marina." Her tone said that she was much too busy to consort with anyone but the most serious scholars of magical practice and history. (Which I'd been well on my way to becoming before Cly deserted me.)

How would Tel handle Irene? Well — he wouldn't, because you wouldn't ever catch him in a library. All right. How would Tel handle Irene if he were Marina? Smile? My facial muscles were getting awfully tired. "Hello, Irene," I said, radiating sympathy and compassion. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged but turned down the scowl a notch. "As well as might be expected."

I perched on the edge of her desk and continued to project empathy at her, as one newly minted Secunda to another. "I'm sorry. I know it must be...tough. With, erm, everything that has been happening."

It wasn't anywhere near my most eloquent speech, but Irene dropped the scowl entirely, leaned forward, and confided, "I find comfort in routine." Then she sat back as if appalled at this admission of humanity. "What can I do for you, Marina?"

"Well," I hedged, tracing a corner of her ledger. "I was hoping that you had something on the Eleusinian mysteries."

Whatever topic she'd been expecting, the worship of Demeter was not it. Her eyebrows went way up. "Indeed. I suppose I don't need to point out that they are the Eleusinian _mysteries_ and that very little that is reliable has been written about them? No? Wait here for a moment."

I might have tried to follow, but I didn't feel like pushing my luck. Instead, I swung my legs and waited patiently, admiring the furniture that had been carved with elegant scrolls and foliage patterns to match the marble columns that rose here and there like great tree trunks. At last Irene returned with three slim books. "These are probably the best accounts you'll find — this author actually claims to have spoken with someone who participated in the rites, although I'm not entirely convinced based some inconsistencies in the timing…." She continued in that vein, but my mind sort of glazed over and I started daydreaming about rescuing Thoren instead. Speaking of that —

"Irene," I interrupted, "do you have anything about Hades?"

"...also, he claims that Demeter originally came from Crete, and that's obviously ridiculous — did you say _Hades_?"

"Yes." I squirmed a little under her incredulous gaze. "Specifically, anything about times when mortals successfully left it."

Did Irene remember my impetuous words as we watched the flaming Viking ships sink below the horizon? Was she considering a lecture on the foolhardiness of storming the gates of Hell? What a shame Tel and Mel had never learned Ars Mentis! Impassively, she warned, "You do realize that very little has been written about Hades because people _fear_ it, and with very good reason?"

"Yes," I said simply. I did know. But that was why I needed any information she could provide.

At last, she rose again, much more reluctantly this time, and vanished into the stacks for a significantly longer period. While I waited, my mind drifted again to Thoren. I'd find him — how I wasn't sure, but that wasn't the point — and I'd be a glowing vision of ethereal beauty in a misty world of greys and blacks. I'd run — no, float in a dignified, elegant way — to him, and I'd say, "Thoren, I have kept my promise." And he'd regard me with awe, and he'd say —

"This will have to do," Irene snapped, irritated at her library for not yielding the requested information, and at me for drawing its deficiency to her attention. She laid a fourth book on top of the others. "Now, I trust that you remember all the regulations and will follow them?" Upon my emphatic nod, she updated her ledger, quill-tip pausing meaningfully at the entry for _Enochian Runes for Neophytes_. As quickly as I could, I tucked the books into my satchel, bade her a good evening, and exited the library before she could change her mind.

* * *

As my wanderings took me back towards Thoren's quarters, a sudden longing to see his bedchamber seized me. Everything about his workroom had changed, but that was in some sense a public space — surely his bedroom was sacrosanct? Apparently Mel approved, because one minute I was tracing my fingertips along the side of the Parthenon, and the next I was hovering midair as a turtle dove. Disorienting, but convenient. Keeping to the shadows, I glided silently above the heads of the Bonisagi. An apprentice was leaving the bedchamber with an armful of Wonders, and I darted through the door just before it closed.

Though it was dark, Mel gave me night vision and I could see Thoren's room as well as I had that morning. Better, perhaps, because this time I wasn't distracted by...other things. The bed I remembered quite well, large and comfortable but draped only in the thinnest blanket. (Thoren's Norwegian blood had disdained Athenian winters.) Given what I knew of his tastes, the rich tapestries around the walls came as a surprise, but perhaps he had inherited them from the locals he ejected and never bothered to remove them. Under the single window crouched a minimalist writing desk, stripped of all work-related documents and Wonders but bearing a trove of slender poetry books stacked tidily in the center. What did you know — Bernard de Ventadorn, whose courtly verses I had quoted in that second essay, made an appearance.

On an impulse, I tugged at the desk drawer with my beak, and it slid out to reveal a single leather-bound book with "Journal" on the cover in gold. With Mel guiding my wings, I flapped until it fluttered open to a page bookmarked by a pen-and-ink sketch of Thoren. He looked young, still intense but much less troubled, and the artist had captured the humorous quirk of his mouth and the slightly arched eyebrow. An inscription in the corner read: "To Thoren, with love. — Inga."

A wave of jealousy filled my cup with bitterness. _You were not entirely wrong in your fourth reason_ , he'd said. _No, not like that_ , he'd assured me.

A childhood friend indeed.

Unbidden, my wingtips flipped the pages, and as they rustled by I caught glimpses of the name and mentions of Plague, until the book fell open at an entry dated six years earlier. The entirety of it read: "Plague took Inga this morning." And three days later: "Have decided to destroy the Plague. Will take my cabal to Athens for the Node." Mel steered me past pages and pages on the logistics for the move — another time and with another avatar, I'd have found them fascinating, but now I searched for the passages that would hurt most. Terrible, limping love poems; professions of eternal devotion; vows to join the adored Her in the afterlife once he vanquished the Plague.

What of me? Had he written anything about me? Here, from two years ago: "Bumped into M and a couple younger children outside Hearth. She's growing up. Reminds me a little of Inga when she forgets to be flustered."

As a matter of fact, I remembered that meeting. Mel, who had stolen my perfect memory, gave me back this scene: Aided by Jamie and giggling wildly, Sy had plowed through the laundry lines snatching sheets and petticoats and pelting towards the Hearth. "We're going to throw them in the fire!" he yelled gleefully over his shoulder. "We're going to watch them burn!"

Hiking up my skirts halfway to my knees, I dashed after him, shouting, "Sy! Sy! _Sylvester_! Get back here right now — or I swear you're going to carry groceries for Mother Doria for a _month_!"

Some poor unsuspecting soul chose that instant to enter the yard. Sy and Jamie merrily flung armfuls of white fabric at him, screeched joyfully, "Incoming!" and skipped around him to dive into the caves. I, on the other hand, plowed straight into the hapless visitor, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Oof!" he grunted from somewhere under all the sheets and petticoats.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I exclaimed as I desperately pulled laundry off him. Dear gods, please don't be someone important!

The Magister Mundi himself removed a petticoat from his head and said calmly, as if visitors to House Criamon were customarily greeted by showers of undergarments, "Good day, Adepta. Having trouble with the children?"

"I'm so sorry!" I repeated, absolutely mortified. "I — I —" I didn't even know what to say. Astera was going to _murder_ me when she learned that Sy had provoked a diplomatic crisis when I was minding him! "I'm going to kill him!"

Disentangling himself from a bedsheet, Thoren said drily, "That seems a little excessive. I assure you that House Bonisagus does not take mortal offense at, shall we say, this unconventional welcome."

Clearly he had no experience in disciplining children. Holding out my arms for the laundry, I told him firmly, "That is not the point. The point is that his actions are completely unacceptable. House Criamon does not tolerate such behavior."

"And so the boy shall carry groceries for a month?" Thoren arched an amused eyebrow as he deposited a bundle of now-dirty laundry in my arms.

" _Yes_ ," I said emphatically. Sy and Jamie would re-wash all of it, I decided. In addition to carrying groceries.

To my surprise, Thoren chuckled a little. "Ah, well, I wish you luck, Adepta." Then he continued to his meeting with Astera, leaving me to storm to the laundry room. As he'd noted in his diary that night, I had indeed been too furious to feel flustered. It was one of the few times I'd acted naturally in front of him.

And his summary of the entire affair was that I reminded him of his old lover? Strain as I might, anger, which might have defeated pain, hovered just out of reach.

Here was a passage from last Monday. After a technical summary of how the Aegis nearly collapsed and a list of ideas on how to stabilize it, he noted, "Recv'd some belated assistance from House Criamon after fight with Marina. One of the few people to stand up to me after Inga. Surprisingly refreshing." Inga again. It always came back to Inga.

What had he written last Wednesday, after we spent an hour in his office and I asked him to take me as a student? "Marina showed up today, proposed fascinating idea of a system of reservoirs to store excess Quintessence from Hearth." There was more, but my eyes skipped to the bottom of the page — and a poem addressed to Her.

The next morning he had seduced me.

The night before he ruined me in the eyes of all Athenians, he'd written a love poem to _her_.

I couldn't bear to read any more. What had he told me just before he kissed me? That he was attracted to my intelligence and competence? If he'd been honest, he'd have said that he was attracted to the way that he could almost pretend I was Inga.

And it made sense. I was under no illusions about my physical appearance (very ordinary, at least until Mel got hold of me), and Adepti were commonplace, especially in House Bonisagus with its "twenty-seven members of the fourth degree or higher." I was nothing special. I had nothing to make a Magister Mundi, an archmage of Ars Vis, glance at me twice — except for a faint resemblance to his lost love. What I'd thought he felt for me — what I'd believed we shared — was only a very silly young woman's hubris.

Birds couldn't shed tears, but I tucked my head under a wing and stayed like that for a long, long time.

* * *

Savoring the turtle dove's association with undying devotion to the utmost, Mel kept me in bird form until I returned to the orphanage. She even obligingly levitated the diary behind me as I flew so I could read it later and rend my heart some more. We alighted in the yard and Mel restored my human form just in time for me to leap back in shock as Tel plummeted straight down from the clear sky. He landed gracefully on one knee in the dirt, dramatic red, gold, and white dust rings rippling away from him. Five pairs of little feet scampered into the yard, and the mice applauded enthusiastically. Clinging to his back was Ynez, mouth still open in a scream of delight. When Tel helped her down, she tottered a little and smiled dreamily around at all of us.

"Where's Ghallim?" Tel asked alertly. "We should update you on our conversation."

Faintly amused by Ynez's lovestruck expression, I shrugged vaguely. "Dunno, couldn't find him." As a matter of fact, I hadn't tried. All I'd wanted to do was go home and hide in my room.

"So he didn't say whether he'd come back here tonight?"

"Nope."

"It's been the best day of my life," Ynez whispered in the most un-Prima-like way possible.

"Okay," said Tel-Cly. "Let's go inside so we can update you." Uncharacteristically, he was the one to shoo Ynez and me into the common room, where Ynez plopped woozily onto a sofa and I sank down at the other end, kicking off my shoes and tucking my feet underneath me comfortably. The diary I clutched tightly, compulsively running my fingers over the tooled leather. Tel pulled up a chair in front of us and regarded us with amusement.

"I appear to be turning into you, Marina," he said drily. "I have the strangest urge to go to the library to study Enochian."

And I most certainly did not. I had the most natural urge to find a quiet corner to re-read Thoren's diary. "Let's make this fast then," I suggested.

To my distress, Tel gave an unnecessarily long-winded account of their trip to the Tower of the Winds. Starting from the bottom of it. Did I care _how_ they'd gotten to the top? No. But apparently he did. And so I learned all about how to access the balcony without Ars Animae.

Lacking any better ideas, Tel had started clambering up the slick wall using brute strength. In his head, Cly kept screaming at him to learn Enochian, so he dropped his notebook with a thud, forcing his distressed Muse to retrieve it and grant him a reprieve from the lecture. Aided by Ars Essentiae, Ynez scrabbled up clumsily after him, and the two managed surprisingly well. Halfway up the tower, Tessa's furious face appeared over the balcony ledge.

"It's so hard to get up!" Tel called. "Why do you guys make it so hard to get up?"

Ignoring him, she shouted down at Ynez, "Prima, you did not tell me that you murdered my Adepta Maior! Would you care to explain yourself?"

Clinging to the marble by sheer force of will, Ynez was in no mood for a second trial. "I am very very sorry for the accident," she called back up. "I also apologize that I forgot to tell you. But I have been judged by the Areopagus already!"

Mention of judicial proceedings did nothing to appease Tessa. "I was not _there_. And would you care to remind us all of why _I was not there_?"

No, Ynez really did not care to. Fortunately for her, Tessa launched into a rant about how heinous it was to murder Adepti and Magistri Mundi of other Houses and harangued Ynez and Tel until Ynez's hand slipped and she nearly fell to her death. Then Tessa inquired sarcastically if she needed help. When Ynez nodded vigorously in what she hoped was a dignified way ("It really wasn't," Tel remarked), Tessa transformed into her Heartbeast, a large green serpent ("That's one of the symbols of Demeter!" Cly exclaimed), and slithered down the tower to rescue them so she could scream at Ynez some more. "I _told_ her that it's a waste of time to yell at a fourteen-year-old," Tel noted.

A little irked by his rendition of events, Ynez put in, "Verrus joined us — he's the Secundus, did you know that?" (No, I didn't, and I didn't particularly care either, unless it would speed up this meeting.) Apparently Verrus was just as shallow as I had remembered, and he'd frowned in displeasure at his lover's reduced appearance, showing little sympathy for Tel's complaint, "Something bad happened. It should wear off, but she keeps talking about history!"

"She _does._ But you get used to it after a while," Tel said equably. "Then Ynez explained that we talked to Hestia, and Tessa said — _Marina_ , are you even listening?"

Guiltily, I snapped shut Thoren's diary on a heartrending poem about how he should have taken the relationship faster and proposed years to Inga ago. "Of course I was listening! You were talking about Tessa."

Since this entire conversation was about Tessa, he eyed me skeptically and informed me sternly, "Pay attention. This is important. Hestia is a danger to everyone and we can't defeat her ourselves. She was a threat even before Despina imprisoned her — and believe me, the past four hundred years have not improved her personality."

Yes, I'd rather gotten that impression in the Hearth.

"Tessa also said, 'Not all of us stayed together,'" Ynez added. "I think she meant her siblings? I did tell her Athena is dead but it's very complicated, and she said she should have felt it and the city should have collapsed. She _is_ prepared to move House Bjornaer away if necessary."

"What?" I cried. "She can't do that! That's so selfish!"

"Well, I'm not sure she sees it that way," Ynez told me. "She takes the long view. According to her, 'Those who try to force the pieces together end up snapping them.' Then she said, 'Remember Rome?' which makes no sense. Rome is the seat of the Vatican and the center of the world."

Was that a coded message to me? Was I trying too hard to figure out what was going on with Thanos and Persephone? Also — it seemed that Tel and Ynez now knew about Tessa being Demeter, so that was one less secret. Keeping track of all of them was getting much too complicated.

It only got worse. Tel added, "Ynez asked Tessa about Persephone, since _you_ seemed to think she was connected." Oh dear — had I given away too much? Maybe Gordon shouldn't have trusted me after all. "Tessa told us that she lost her daughter because Persephone fell in love with someone reckless, and although he promised to keep her safe, he didn't. Tessa did try to bring her back but failed, and she has learned to bide her time."

Tessa or Persephone or both? There were altogether too many _she_ 's in this story. "So will Tessa help us if Thanos does something shady?" I asked.

Ynez shook her head regretfully. "No. She won't interfere unless he turns on her. Remember those skeletons I saw the first time I looked at his sins? He's gotten a lot of their family killed. She tries to stay out of her siblings' fights."

With a flourish, Tel held up his notebook and showed me a page on which he'd scrawled, "Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Hephaestus, Hestia, Demeter." "Clyde — I mean Cly — helped me compile a family tree. She also told me about all of Demeter's symbols, and all the people in history who have changed their names. It was pretty fascinating, but then Tessa thought I was getting too distracted and handed Cly a treatise on agriculture to keep her busy. _De Agri Cultura_ by Cato the Elder. Have you read it, Marina?"

Ynez nudged him. "Tel, you're getting distracted again."

"Oh yeah." He frowned briefly. "Verrus must have known about Demeter and never told me." Didn't _that_ sound familiar. What was wrong with all the adults in Athens — was secretiveness contagious? "Anyway, all the gods have followers, even Hestia. Tessa warned us again that Thanos manipulates young children, and Ynez here gave her another 'I'm an Adepta Maior and a woman grown' spiel, and Tessa blew her right off the Tower."

"She _blew_ you off the _Tower_?" I squeaked.

Sulkily, Ynez muttered, "She just held me over the edge with Ars Essentiae." Then her face lit up with hero worship. "Tel _demanded_ that she treat me with more compassion! He pointed out that we should focus on feeding people! She was really impressed by his — what did she say? His backbone."

"Yep," said Tel proudly. "I called her 'unnecessarily old Tessa.' I'll bet people don't say that to her very often." No, no, I really doubted it. At least, not anyone still living. "I also told her that her family needs to learn to communicate better so they can cooperate to contain the Plague. She wasn't mad at me."

"She _laughed_ at you, though!" Ynez said, still indignant on his behalf. "She laughed at your pimples, and then she said something cryptic about wondering where the 'others' are and called them a 'failed construction.'"

"Yeah, but she did sort of fix my face. She even laughed again when I said, 'Keep doing that! We can't solve hunger, but we _can_ solve personal problems.'"

I was wondering how the two of them ever returned from the Tower of the Winds alive.

"Oh, Marina," Ynez added, almost as an afterthought once she'd stopped giggling, "Tessa had a message for you. She said to tell you that she forgives you in light of your conversation."

Forgive me? For what? And which conversation? I was having trouble keeping everything straight. I must have looked bewildered, because Ynez said with some amount of concern, "She said you'd know what it meant."

Oh. Well, she appeared to have overestimated my intelligence. Too bad. Maybe I'd remember after the backlash faded. But then I wouldn't be _pretty_ anymore….

"Is that everything?" I asked, surreptitiously sliding my finger under the cover of Thoren's diary.

"Yes, I think so," said Tel at the same time that Ynez cried, "No! We got home in the most amazing way!"

"Oh, right," said Tel, getting excited. "I _flew_ , Marina! And not by changing into a random animal either. Oh, by the way, Cly says you have to be close by for me to use Ars Animae. So maybe I have to be close by for you to use Ars Fati or Ars Vis? Not that you should. You definitely shouldn't. Terrible things will happen if you do. But anyway, she couldn't turn me into a falcon, but she taught me some Enochian, and it just _felt_ right. It sounded _natural_. I made this waterfall up into the sky, and it was like we just catapulted up. It was _amazing_."

Ynez interrupted, "Eventually we got so high we could barely breath, and then all of a sudden the magic just cut out — I think we got too far away from Cly, Tel, you shouldn't leave her behind like that — and we were just free-falling." Ha — I'd bet that was when she'd thrown her arms around his neck. "It was amazing," she sighed happily, her eyes going all dreamy again.

"And then Cly screamed the Enochian word for 'stop' at me, and I said it, and it just worked! We just landed right in the yard! _You_ saw it. It _worked_!"

Staring at their glowing faces, I savored the bittersweetness of the moment — Tel's wonder and delight that after ten years he could finally perform Awakened magic, Ynez's joy at the adventure they had shared, my wistfulness at having missed it all. If Tel kept Cly, if he stayed average looking, Verrus would quickly lose interest and Ynez might actually have a chance. She and Tel would make a good couple; they'd be good for each other. How could I begrudge them their happiness?

But if Tel kept Cly, I'd never do Awakened magic again.

* * *

Because this was the Forgotten Orphanage so _of course_ no one ever forgot about us, a lavender glow crept through the windows while we were eating a very late supper. Tel was passionately debating himself (or possibly Cly) on the morality of imprisoning a god via deceit, and Ynez was craning her neck to try to read Thoren's diary along with me (I bowed my head over it and unfastened my hair to hide the pages). The mice were scuffling at the children's table as usual — Helen's indignant squeal rose over the tumult, "That was _my_ sausage!" and Jamie whined, "Gordon, you had _two_ sausages already. That's not fair!"

"Marina, Gordon's stealing all of our food. _Do_ something!" Sy appealed in his most angelic voice.

Shielding the diary with my arm (to Ynez's disappointment), I glanced over at the mice just in time to see Gordon shove the rest of the contested sausage into his mouth, then stare challengingly at me while he chewed ostentatiously and emitted moans of delight. As if I cared. None of them were going to starve. Yet.

Lil was the first to notice that her bread had turned purple. "Uh, am I seeing things, or is the light in here kind of funny?" she asked.

"It's Zoe!" Ynez gasped. "Gordon! Get them out of here!"

Dropping their knives and forks, the mice scurried off into the caves, vanishing as swiftly and completely as their namesake.

"Are they all gone?" Ynez whispered to me. At my jerky nod, she tiptoed to the door, hissing at me, "Put your hair back up! She'll think you're no better than — " Suddenly remembering that her warning came much, much too late, she blushed and flung open the door.

To no one's surprise, Zoe bani Quaesitor stood on our doorstep, her angel bathing the entire yard in an eerie purple light. "Good evening, Prima," she said formally. "I have come to offer my sympathies."

"I'll bet she did," I muttered to Tel.

"Shhh!" He flapped a hand at me. "And put up your hair, Marina!"

 _Et tu_ , Telemachus? But I obediently began twisting my hair back up and stabbing pins through it.

Trying not to peer too obviously around the shadowy buildings for signs of the mice, Ynez responded to the Inquisitor with equal courtesy, "Good evening, Adepta Maior. I — I appreciate your sympathy. This has been a difficult time for us."

Understatement of the millennium. As Tel's favorite sentence went, it had been an _awful_ week.

"What _happened_?" Zoe asked, dropping the formality. Curiosity and concern warred in her tone, and concern actually won the upper hand. I was grudgingly impressed.

Picking her words carefully, Ynez explained, "Magister Thoren wished to access the Hearthstone directly, but Astera rejected his request because, well, it is one of our mysteries." Zoe nodded understandingly. Everyone knew that House Criamon was all about our mystical mysteries. I just hadn't realized until this week that we were all about literal mysteries too. "And then — " Ynez cast a quick glance at me and lowered her voice slightly — "Magister Thoren decided to force the issue."

"So how did you resist?" Zoe asked, the question probably all of Athens was pondering. Those who weren't busy getting drunk or shopping for Aegis-orange fabric, anyway.

Without even a split second's hesitation — Ynez must have anticipated this inquisition — my Prima rebuffed her firmly, "That is part of the mysteries."

To my surprise, Zoe accepted the implicit reproof. "Not all mysteries are safe" was all she said, regarding Ynez with intense — concern? Something more?

"Yes. I _know_." Some small fraction of my little sister's frustration and desperation bled through. "But I need to maintain our House."

Tenderness like the tenderness I'd heard from Thoren filled the Inquisitor's voice. "Ynez — " She hesitated very briefly. "Ynez, you don't have to bear this burden alone." And writ all over her face was the offer — the _longing_ — to help.

But Ynez missed it entirely, dear innocent Ynez, who had fallen for Tel and, for better or worse, blinded herself to anyone else's love. "What can I do?" she asked rhetorically. "I am the Prima. It is my burden to bear. Anyway, how may I be of assistance to the Catholic Church?"

Recovering herself, Zoe promptly went off on a long technical description of the demon she had tracked all the way to Athens that was causing the Plague — I glanced nervously at Tel and tried very hard not to look towards the Hearth — and transitioned seamlessly into a discourse on the Bible and an exorcist named Paul. Gods, what a bore! How could someone with such adventurous tastes in clothing be so incredibly tedious? Now she was rattling on about demons that possessed humans — striking a little too close to the orphan-godling arrangement, if the tightness of Ynez's shoulders provided any indication.

Time for the Secunda to swoop to the rescue then. Bouncing out of my chair, I pattered over to the doorway and grinned up at the woman who'd burn us all at the stake if she learned our mysteries. "Hi, Zoe," I chirped. "It's really good to see you again! Thanks so much again for helping Ynez at the Areopagus."

My charm attack worked — but, oddly, only to reinforce existing sentiment. Someone had already charmed her.

A chuckle came from across the yard, and Ghallim entered the circle of lavender light, looking weary but entertained. "Good evening, everyone."

"Ghallim!" I greeted him, waving at him past Zoe's voluminous sleeve. "Where have you been? I looked for you at the Parthenon before I left, but I couldn't find you anywhere!"

"I was 'elping ze Bonisagi repair ze Aegis. Eez zere a reason we are all standing in ze doorway?"

"Oh," said Zoe with surprising diffidence. "I was hoping to search for the demons with Ynez. Since she is an adept of Ars Manes."

Suddenly recalling her manners, Ynez quickly said, "Yes, of course! Won't you come in?"

Even under the purple light, Zoe's blush was visible. She tried to cover it up by asking a little too quickly, "Where is your chapel?"

My oblivious little sister noticed nothing, of course. "We don't have one," she said a little apologetically. Good thing Zoe was too smitten with our Prima to demand that we add a chapel to the orphanage! I couldn't even begin to imagine how the mice would react. "We can use the common area...um, I can get my crucifix."

As Ynez escorted Zoe into the outer Hearth, I caught Ghallim's arm and jerked my head at them. "What's going on there?"

He whispered, "I saw Zoe on Saturday to ask what she knows about ze Plague. She was upset over a theological dispute we had — " yes, Ghallim did have that effect on people — "and she started to manifest my sins — eez zis a Spanish thing, do you think? Ynez seems to like doing eet too — but I listed zem off faster zan she could find zem. Finally she told me to talk to Ynez about Jesus, and I said, 'She always tells me things, and I never listen." She said, 'I can tell!' and I thought she was about to smite me, but zen I told her, Ynez always says ze nicest things about you.' _I_ was being sarcastic, but she just seemed to melt."

"Uhhhhhh. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I hissed.

Just to be difficult, he said, "I don't know. What _are_ you thinking?"

Big brothers! Did the mice find _me_ equally aggravating?

Since neither Tel nor Ghallim nor I knew any Ars Manes, Zoe graciously excused us from the prayer circle thing — prayer line? — she formed with Ynez. The two seated themselves on a sofa, bowed their heads, and clasped hands, with the angel floating behind Ynez (but not in an aggressive way, or Ghallim would have acted. Probably. Unless he thought it would be more entertaining to observe the repercussions). Blushing furiously as their hands met, Zoe began intoning a prayer.

Shamelessly I snuck up behind the sofa and peered into the mirror Ynez had laid between them on a cushion. The glass flooded with darkness for a moment before resolving into an image. Rays of orange light broke through black smoke like malevolent eyes in a pitch-black cave: The Plague was staring right back at us, matching us gaze for gaze. Roiling furiously like an ocean of hatred sealed away in the Umbra, it glared straight into the heart of the city. Something was summoning it here, anchoring and sheltering it. Then the vision shifted to a bird's-eye view of Athens, an Athens like a fragile model encased in glass, with Plague smoke rising and billowing all around the outside. Thin tendrils groped in through pores and swirled into specific individuals and objects. Through the filter of Ynez's world view, the entire scene echoed of a pagan pantheon's underworld.

Tartarus? Cly would have known. Mel wouldn't tell me until disaster struck.

Breathing hard, Zoe jerked back, snapping the contact. "The Plague has allies in the city! We must find them and crush them," she declared.

"Who would do such a thing?" Ynez whispered. "Who would bring the Plague into the city?"

"I don't know, but we will find out and I will bring the crusade here if necessary."

Ynez's eyes nearly fell out of her skull. "The _crusade_?" she squeaked.

The head of the Spanish Inquisition in Athens explained, "We're not here just to convert people, Ynez. We're here to target evil and expel the demons that are the origin of the Plague. To do so, we need to draw upon all the resources we have — and that may include raising a crusade against Athens."

Quietly, Ynez asked, "Will you do to everyone what you did to Father Emmanuel then?"

"No." Zoe shook her head emphatically. "As a religious leader, he is held to a higher standard. In fact, I believe that it is far better to be a pagan than to _claim_ to be God's priest. We shall win over the benighted people of this city by showing them the extent of God's love." And she went off on such a truly excruciatingly tedious recital of the Christian deity's virtues that I considered burning myself at the stake just to end it. (Mel approved of the sentiment but not the timing, and so I failed to erupt into flames.) After a while, even Tel-Cly began to yawn, but Ghallim-Ashton observed Zoe in a predatory manner that did not bode well for our future relations with the Catholic Church.

Finally our tormentor concluded, "But it's late and we should all rest. I might seek your aid again, Ynez."

"Of course," said Ynez, probably wondering how she could mitigate the damage.

But Mel directed my eyes to the pink flush on Zoe's face and her look of shy pleasure at Ynez's response, and I decided to leaven the mood a little. As soon as the door shut behind Zoe, I pounced on my sister. Grabbing her hands and dragging her into a corner, I squealed (in a creditable imitation of Helen), "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, she likes you!"

Ynez regarded me as if I'd gone mad. "Yes," she said patiently. "Of course she does. That's why she hasn't killed all of us yet."

"No, she _likes_ you!"

"Yes…?"

"No, no, no! She _likes-_ likes you! Don't you see? She has a _crush_ on you!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Now Ynez's cheeks matched Zoe's. "Of course she doesn't. She can't — just, no!"

"Ghallim," I called across the room. "You saw it too, right? Tell her!"

Looking up from another Wonder he was crafting, he smirked a little and seconded, "Eet eez true. I _'ave_ observed zat she eez infatuated with you."

"No!" Ynez turned bright red and cast half-fearful, half-hopeful glances in Tel's direction.

Just as oblivious as she in romantic affairs, he observed logically, "It's a _good_ thing that the Inquisition likes us."

And indeed, later that night, as I attempted to read Thoren's diary under the covers and Ynez determinedly countered every nightlight Effect Mel cast, we heard the mice's song drifting in through our bedroom door: "Zoe and Yne-ez, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…."

Just to put the final seal on a bizarre day, Tel was in the library studying Enochian.


	16. Obscenely Early on Tuesday March 9, 1490

**Obscenely Early on Tuesday March 9, 1490**

Athens was burning with Plague and with Hearth-flame. From a few streets away, Astera called frantically, "Marina! Marina!" Blind panic impelled me towards her, but bonfires leaped across my path and erased her from view. Now Thoren shouted from the opposite direction, "Marina! Over here!" and I whirled to see him battling a fire elemental. It engulfed him in fiery tentacles and I screamed and screamed but no sound came out. "Reckless Criamoni, you've killed everyone," hissed Vanessa's voice from all around me. Suddenly, the bonfires turned into the Bonisagi who had died in the Hearth. "You've killed us all," they crackled, and they surrounded me, ringing me tighter and tighter — my hem caught fire — my skin began to blister —

And I burst awake on a silent shriek, with the conviction that something was horribly wrong. Across the dark room, Ynez was already flinging off her blanket and shoving her feet into her slippers. Giving Timo a frantic pet and command to _stay_ (which he seemed disinclined to disobey anyway at 3:00 in the morning), I pelted after her into the yard, nearly colliding headlong with Tel, who rounded the corner from the library without looking.

Ghallim and the other mice conversed in tense undertones by the entrance to the Hearth, the children huddled in a miserable, terrified clump. When Ghallim saw us, he said flatly, "It's Sy."

My heart stopped for one split second with a physical pang. Oh Sy, mischievous, laughing Sy whose wild imprint lay all over the Forgotten Orphanage — in the kitchen where he sped in and out to steal snacks, giggling as he dodged Mother Doria and Calla; in the laundry room where he stole our dresses to use as costumes in the plays he and Helen organized; in the classroom where he passed around little notes that convulsed us all, even me, with laughter right at the height of Astera's lecture. The orphanage and I could have borne the loss of Ashton, I thought — and hated myself for my bias — but not of Sy. Never of Sy. His absence would be a pain that would never fade.

"Oh, my God, no," Ynez breathed.

A reluctant Gordon semi-detached himself from the little huddle of mice and explained unhappily, "He _has_ to sneak out because he's a street urchin, and to stay here would be a denial of his very nature. We're warned him over and over to be careful…but he must have gotten caught."

"My God," repeated Ynez.

Ghallim told us grimly, "He's not in the mind link anymore."

In a voice that was barely more than a whimper, Lil clarified, "It's like when Ashton broke off." At her words, Helen clung even tighter to Jamie, who looked suddenly ancient. All of the mice bore the faces of those who had been braced for the news of a loved one's death, and were simultaneously devastated and relieved that it had come.

"We'll find him. All of you — hide in the caves," our Prima commanded, and they obeyed immediately, their alacrity betraying their gladness that they need not risk the same fate by searching for him. Once they had vanished, Ynez regarded the rest of us unhappily and said slowly, "I hate to suggest it, but we should start at the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea."

Through numb lips, I squeaked out, "You think the Inquisition got him?" It was what we'd dreaded since the day Zoe and her commandos entered the city.

Ynez only shrugged helplessly, but Ghallim, who had been prowling around the edges of the orphanage tracking Sy, seconded her. "Ashton and I agree. We found signs zat 'e went zat way."

For once without any further discussion, our little rescue mission set off into the city, proceeding at an agonizingly slow pace to match Ynez's limp. If I summoned a wind disk, Mel would probably kill Sy in retaliation, but Cly wouldn't taint her hands by interfering with the flow of history. "Tel, can you speed us up?" I asked.

Probably with nefarious intent, Mel suddenly transformed me into a snow owl. (Why? For the extra poignancy of reaching Sy just in time to watch him burn at the stake? I wondered bitterly. Wait — why was I giving her ideas?) My sharp eyes identified a stick for Tel to whittle, and I plunged down, snatched it in my talons, and dropped it into his hands with an emphatic hoot. He did hack at the bark clumsily with his pocketknife, but carving was my Focus, not his, and his Ars Essentiae Effect failed. Quite sensibly, Ynez also protested against our accumulating too much more Paradox before this backlash had even worn off, and so we continued with excruciating slowness.

 _Oh, Sy, why did I scorch your feet for a trivial lapse in etiquette? Please, Sy, come back — you can leave muddy footprints on the table all you want. It's all yours. Just please, please come back to us._ Tears that refused to fall stung my eyes and constricted my chest.

It came as no surprise that the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea was lit by a bright purple glow. Through a window I saw it all: Zoe standing before the altar and singing Latin hymns to cast out a demon. On the bare tiles in front of her knelt a man in his forties, who was rapidly aging right before our eyes. Bound in place by Ars Essentiae, he didn't even bother to struggle, for all of his attention was concentrated on the incorporeal essence that swirled agitatedly around him. I didn't even need to see his face. Of course it was Sy.

Dully I watched Ynez explode through the door, Tel and Ghallim on her heels. I was so _tired_ of all these losses that piled higher and higher, like — what was Avaris' analogy? — like water building up against a dam. Unable to bring myself to join the cavalry, I glided up silently to alight on a rafter. Locking my talons around the wooden beam and clamping my wings to my sides, I grimly fought Mel back as I considered my options. She didn't want me to think. She wanted me to _act_. Her impatience with unnecessary dithering lashed at my mind.

Who am I? What am I? There has to be more to me than the sum of my knowledge. There has to be more to me than my avatar's nature. There has to be a _me_ somewhere in here.

Below, the drama unfolded.

" _Dios mio_!" cried Ynez. "Zoe, what have you _done_?" Running up the aisle, she stretched out a desperate hand to the essence, but though it tried to cling to her like a terrified child, it kept sliding around and through her body.

Completely ignorant of House Criamon's mysteries, Zoe greeted her with relief. "Ah, Ynez, I'm glad you've come! This poor child! He has been manipulated and defiled most vilely."

Snatching up a votive candle as a Focus, Ynez again grabbed at the god-Sy.

"It will be easier to show you than to explain," said Zoe. Using Artes Mentis and Temporis, she projected an image of a demon clawing its way out of a child's body and recited a Biblical passage about cutting a demon out of its host. "This child stole from a priest. I saw it and noticed a scar on him, like dark magic. The demon must have done it. I've expelled it, but it keeps trying to attack him!"

The day Astera and Thoren died and Lil commenced the road to oblivion, Sy (the human Sy) had argued passionately, "We were given a chance to become something greater than ourselves! It was our choice!" And so the human orphan had joined with the god orphan, freezing his body in child form for decades upon decades. But that had ended when he targeted the wrong man this night, when Zoe captured them and cut them asunder. Without the human, the god would perish; without the god, the human could not survive.

Oh, Sy — of all the targets in the city, why did you have to pick a priest?

And why did these disasters have to keep happening to me? All I'd ever wanted to do was to read and write about great events, not to stand at their center or, gods forbid, _influence_ their course. My highest aspiration had been to live quietly at the orphanage, tending a flock of children and slowly building a library to rival that of House Bonisagus. So simple, so innocent. I was tired of crying, tired of planning, tired of thinking. I was _angry_. I wanted to lash out, to avenge Sy. _Yes, just act._ But that urge came from Mel. What would Cly say? _Stay out of it — your job is to observe and record._ But there has to be a Marina who stands separate from her avatar. I am Marina. What do _I_ want to do?

Marina-who-is-herself loves everyone at the orphanage. Marina-who-is-herself hates anyone who dares hurt someone she loves. Marina-who-is-herself wants to act. Not to think, not to angst, not to wallow in doubts and regrets — only to act.

And so I did.

In one swift dive, I plummeted from the rafter to peck savagely at Zoe's face. In perfect harmony at last, suspended in a single timeless moment, Mel and I brutally raked a gash right through the Inquisitor's Pattern.

Zoe screamed, stumbling backwards.

Ynez shrieked, "No! This is not the way!" and, in an eerie echo of our mother, "I can salvage this situation!" She lunged towards the Inquisitor, straining every muscle to pull her away from me.

Still in exquisite concert, Mel and I impelled the owl's body forward again, extending its talons for the coup de grace —

But Mel betrayed me at the last instant. She lent Ynez a surge of strength, and with a sprinter's speed, my sister flung herself bodily between me and my quarry. Unable to break my momentum, I collided with her and my talons ripped right through her flesh and Pattern.

Her high-pitched, wordless wail jolted me out of sync with Mel. Oh, gods, what have I done? What have I done? Screeching in shock and horror, I flapped back wildly.

Much, much too late — thanks to Cly's non-interventionist policy? — Tel stabbed a finger in my direction, shouted a few words in Enochian, and transformed me into a harmless puppy. Suddenly flightless, I tumbled five feet to the ground and landed with a painful thump on the tiles. But I barely noticed the fractures in my feet, and I threw myself at Ynez, pawing at her skirts and licking frantically at her hands. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I yipped at her. I wagged my tail desperately. "I'm so sorry!"

Calmly, as if Secundi habitually mauled their Primi by accident in the process of murdering senior members of other Houses, Ghallim wiped the blood off Zoe's face, examined the gash, and rubbed an ointment over it to seal the flesh back together. "She will be all right as long as no one else attacks 'er," he reported matter-of-factly.

Straightening, one hand clapped to her cheek, Zoe suddenly called upon the entire church as a Focus for an Ars Mentis Effect. "There will be no violence in the house of God!" she roared. I flung myself at her next, wagging and licking and pleading for forgiveness. Ignoring my panicked overtures, she addressed Ynez severely, "Your House is in some disarray, Prima."

Ynez picked me up and summarily deposited me in Tel's arms. "I understand how you feel now," I whimpered, straining to lick his face. Wordlessly, he petted me in a reassuring but distracted manner, all his attention still focused on the clash of wills between Zoe and Ynez.

Diplomatically, Ghallim applied another poultice to Zoe's face to speed up healing, and only then ministered to Ynez.

"In a matter that concerns one of _my_ charges, you should have spoken to me first," Ynez said sternly to the Inquisitor.

Finally Ghallim moved on to the man-Sy, trying to slow his aging, but the old man was too distraught even to notice. Only last week, when we were trying to save Ashton, Tel had suggested that everyone could use a cute puppy. Tel's Effect had transformed me into Timo's sister, so _I_ was now a cute puppy, right? Jumping out of his arms and nearly breaking a leg, I scrambled over to Sy and shoved my head under his hand, silently exhorting him to take heart. But he didn't even register my presence — all his attention, his very being, was fixed upon the god-essence.

"I will speak to you first next time," Zoe promised. "But a great evil has been done, and I feel no guilt for rectifying it."

"I'll look into it and determine what happened," Ynez said grimly.

Something in Zoe's face softened. "Ynez, you don't have to bear these burdens alone," she offered for the second time that night.

For the second time that night, Ynez ignored the implications; for the second time, she replied with all the loneliness of command, "But I am the Prima." Then, looking at the god-Sy, who was swirling around in despairing wisps, she lied reasonably convincingly, "I will need to bring the demon back to study it."

"Take care that you do not consort with it," Zoe warned.

"I will not," said Ynez, sounding exasperated, collapsing with a thump onto one of the pews and rubbing her temples. "Right now, I just want to go home and _sleep_."  
Working together, Ghallim and Tel healed her enough for her to stand on shaking legs. "Come," Ynez ordered all of us. She preceded us back up the aisle, walking stiffly but dignifiedly and turning her back on Zoe in a superb display of trust or arrogance.

* * *

The trek home felt even longer. None of us knew what to say. Ynez maintained a morose silence, Tel conferred with Cly until he lost his temper at her officious uselessness, and god-Sy curled up in a miserable ball on the equally miserable man-Sy's shoulder. I trotted determinedly after them on short puppy legs, tail tucked very firmly under my belly.

"Sy," Ghallim asked, "what do you remember?"

But the old man only shook his head sadly.

"It's not as bad as Ashton's case," muttered Ynez, half to herself. "We do have a few days to figure it out."

No one spoke again until we arrived home. Then she addressed both Sy's directly: "I'm sorry — I'll do my best, but I'm not sure I can fix this."

Somewhere on that interminable march, I'd struck out a paw for the next step and found it a human foot — Mel had tired of puppy form and changed me back. "We should find an orphan," I suggested.

"Or maybe a golem," said Ghallim, only half facetiously. "Zat would also work. Perhaps eet would even work better."

The mice slowly emerged from the Hearth to welcome back their fallen comrade, most dragging their feet and hanging back timidly. Without hesitation, Helen rushed forward and threw herself at man-Sy, hugging him ferociously around the waist and murmuring up at god-Sy. Gordon nodded gravely at them and told us, "We will take him — them — and see what we can do."

"Can you find a new child?" asked Ynez anxiously.

"We'll try," he assured us, "but it's hard on such short notice. With Ashton...with Ashton we had warning…."

I broke in, "What about a contingency plan? Do you have a contingency plan?"

All of the mice within earshot stared meaningfully at Ghallim — but that wouldn't work a second time. The God of Street Urchins required an impish child host, the former part of which description Ghallim _might_ fit, the latter part of which he most certainly did not. And anyway, we couldn't sacrifice one mouse to save another. Wrapping my arms around myself, I rocked back and forth. What wouldn't I give to see Astera stride purposefully from her office, come in omniscience and in love to save us all.

"Zoe is going to burn us all," Ynez muttered to herself. Then, because she had her priorities — "Oh, my God, I lied in a church!"

"No, you didn't," I (the only Ars Fati mage in House Criamon and hence the expert on such technicalities) pointed out. "None of your statements were actually lies."

"But I did," she said, distressed at the realization. "I pretended not to know what the spirit was — " She gestured at the mice's backs; they were ushering both Sy's into the Hearth in a funereal procession.

"Ah, but you said zat you were going to investigate further," Ghallim observed. "Zat can still be true. We just need to investigate Sy's past, 'ow 'e came 'ere, who 'e was. Anyway," he added more prosaically, "I can make ze church not 'ave been a church."

"No! That's even worse! You can't desecrate a church!"

"Eez eet truly desecration eef eet were never a church to begin with?"

Ynez sputtered for a few moments before exploding, "No! That will be unnecessary!" She paused briefly. "I'm also worried about whether it is right to keep transferring spirits," she admitted.

Was she really considering letting Sy — and eventually Gordon, Jamie, Helen, and Ashton — all die? "Why wouldn't it be right?" I protested. "Sy _told_ us a couple days ago that all the children chose it themselves. And we _saw_ what Astera showed Adonis."

At that, both Ghallim and Ynez looked uncomfortable. "Zere was more to zat Ars Mentis Effect," he said at last.

"The loom _does_ leave a scar that resembles dark magic," added Ynez reluctantly. "I've seen it on Ghallim, and I've seen it on Sy." Then she burst out impatiently, "I really wish we knew what happened to you and Tel! What happened on the loom, why you chose to forget everything — "

"Can you look?" I asked. "Can you pull out old memories?"

They exchanged dubious glances. "I don't know," Ghallim said doubtfully. "You really need to look back in time for zat sort of thing."

"Can you make some sort of Wonder?" Ynez suggested. "Something that would allow me to use Ars Temporis too?"

Frowning, Ghallim gave her only a noncommittal "Maybe."

All this dithering and planning were wasting time. Quickly I offered, "How about trying just Ars Mentis first? You can test it on me."

In response, Ynez pulled out ye old mirror and scrutinized my reflection by candlelight. "Well, I see Mel," she observed, to exactly no one's surprise. "But that's odd...she doesn't look like what I expect from an avatar."

"She shouldn't, right?" Tel pointed out, crowding around and sticking his head between ours. "Since she's not really an avatar?"

"Yes, but still, there's no echo of the original avatar. I can't find _any_ memories of it, and I should," explained Ynez. "You _should_ have a scar from when your original avatar was removed — but you don't."

"But Astera _said_ that I went on the loom," I protested.

"I still think you did — it's just...odd. Ghallim, I really need Ars Temporis for this."

As it did so often these days, his gaze turned inward and he asked Ashton, "Do you want to 'unt secrets?" A short silence. "Ah, yes, I didn't need to ask — you are always willing to 'unt. Yes, yes, I agree zat some prey fights back, but zat makes eet all ze sweeter." Then he turned to me and directed, "Think of your memories and ze absence of memories. Eet eez like painting over your 'and." He mimed placing his hand on a wall and swooping a brush back and forth over it. "You see ze paint and ze absence of paint, and ze very absence eetself tells you about ze existence of ze 'and…."

Obediently, I thought back through my childhood, searching for my earliest memories and "ze absence of memories." I remembered toddling into the library with Astera, clutching her skirts with my grimy hand. I remembered my first book; my first rag doll; a huge dog that, in retrospect, was probably only a medium-sized mutt, but that at the time seemed as big as a mountain, as solid as the world, and he adored me and watched over me….

"Here's something," Ynez exclaimed suddenly, making me jump. Triumphantly she held up the mirror for all of us to see.

In the glass, an image was slowly coming into focus. A small boy's face emerged from the blurred colors first — a very young boy that might have been Tel, who showed desperate helplessness in the angle of his shoulders and the wildness of his stare. Next to him was a child that might have been me, looking equally miserable and terrified.

Completely confused, Ynez said, "Avaris told me that extreme distress is what triggers your avatar to Awaken. So why didn't the two of you Awaken then? Did you even _have_ avatars to start with?"

"That doesn't make sense," Tel objected. "Every human is born with an avatar. The rarity of mages is due to the rarity of the avatar _Awakening_ , not of existing."

"I _know_ ," Ynez replied with some amount of asperity. "But I didn't get _any_ echoes of an avatar in Marina's mind."

I couldn't tear my eyes from the vision in the mirror. The field of view had broadened to show the yard of a farmer's hovel, all dirt and stones and weeds as tall as the two children. Terrible, hacking coughs drifted out of the hut, and child-Tel suddenly threw himself against the door, pounding on it with his fists. "Mommy! Daddy!" he shrieked. "Let me in!"

Sounds of vomiting came from both the hut in the vision and the real world — across the yard, Lily suddenly stiffened and began to retch up frothy bile. Tel immediately moved towards his mother, but Ghallim put out a hand to stop him.

"You should finish watching ze vision first," he instructed. "I believe zat ze vomiting eez Ynez's backlash."

His face reflecting the powerlessness and despair on the children's faces, Tel clenched his fists but glared at the mirror, where his child self was still banging on the door and pleading for his parents.

"The door is barred to keep the two of you from going in and catching the Plague too," Ynez interpreted.

"But why am I there? Is Tel really my brother?" I exclaimed. My presence outside Tel's childhood home made absolutely no sense — according to Astera, she'd found me on her doorstep when I was two and I'd lived at the orphanage ever since. What was I doing on a farm outside the city wall?

In the mirror, two female figures walked down the road towards the children, one wearing a tragic mask, the other holding a scroll under an arm. With an exclamation of shock, I leaned forward until the tip of my nose bumped the cold glass, straining to see more. But just as Cly and Mel reached the edge of the overgrown yard and the two children turned with fear and faint hope in their eyes, the vision swirled like a palette of watercolors and washed away, leaving only our tense, tired faces staring back at us.

Tel's vanished immediately. He rushed to Lily's side and dropped to his knees in the grass, stroking her head and side with trembling hands and murmuring softly to her.

"I think," said Ynez slowly, "that Tel's parents had the Plague, and that the entire thing with Melpomene and Clio and the dog transformation was to save them."

Ghallim agreed with her assessment, "Yes, eet eez true zat while animals can catch ze Plague, eet eez much more rare. Eet eez as eef ze Plague were engineered to target 'umans."

Addressing that bare room in the corner of my mind, I asked, "Mel, did we have avatars originally?" A flutter of a shrug passed through my consciousness, which, frankly, was more than I'd expected.

Overhearing our discussion, Tel demanded, "Cly, tell me what happened."

She answered in her loftiest tones, "Tell you what happened? As I've informed Marina over and over, good historians never get involved in the course of events. Historians need to stand outside the moment so they can maintain the proper objectivity and not allow emotions to cloud their assessment of — "

"Marina!" Tel shouted at me. "Why is your avatar so useless?"

Well, that was a little harsh. Cly gave a gasp of fury, but before she could defend herself, Ghallim cheerfully joined the fray. "Per'aps ze Muse of 'Istory eez a bad 'istorian 'erself and zat eez why she needs to inspire _others_ to write ze 'istories."

Tel stiffened as Paradox raked through him. Cly furiously began to compose a salacious character assassination of Ghallim _a la_ Procopius, shouting lewd phrases at him as she stabbed her pen at her scroll.

Entirely undaunted, he praised her efforts. "I am proud of you for learning to lie," he beamed.

Flinging aside scroll and pen, she stomped up to him, shoved her face into his, and hissed venomously, "I am the best historian in Athens! I will see it fall because all of you are entirely incompetent, and rest assured — I will document and record it all for posterity, and untold generations will curse your names."

"No, you won't," Ghallim pointed out. "You will 'ave forgotten by zen, ze way you 'ave forgotten about Tel's and Marina's original avatars."

Over their continued bickering, Tel groaned, "I want Mel back. Cly is so much worse!"

I pouted (adorably — I checked in the mirror), "Well, I want Cly back!"

"Why?" Tel demanded. "How can you stand her? She's so full of herself!"

Just to stir up more trouble, Ghallim suggested, "Ah, 'ave you considered ze possibility zat Clio and Melpomene are 'ostile spirits leeching off ze two of you?"

"What?" roared Cly. In the recesses of my mind, Mel merely smirked.

At this point, our Prima deemed it best to exercise some control over her House, which, as Zoe had pointed out, was indeed in some disarray. "All right, all right," she said. "Everyone should sleep. Zoe will return, and we'll need to be at our best when dealing with her. We will tell her that we are still studying Sy, and I will beg God's forgiveness for the lie." Swallowing hard, she continued, "We need to find a clever orphan child for Sy, just in case, but our highest priority is tracking down the Plague supporters. All of our problems will be solved, or at least much _smaller_ , without the Plague."

Cradling Lily in his arms, Tel demanded angrily, "How are we supposed to find them when people have been looking for a solution for a hundred years? Why are _we_ any better?"

Staring him straight in the eye, Ynez replied resolutely, "We're not. But we'll die if we don't, so we should try."

How was that for a motivational speech?

Tel was about as impressed as Ghallim and I were by her eloquence. "No," he argued vehemently, "if we're going to die anyway, we should party instead." Suddenly, a wave of ease floated out from me to wrap around him like an embrace. "Mel?" he asked hopefully, scanning the yard.

"Enough!" Ynez exclaimed. "All of you! Bed!" Oddly, in that moment the resemblance between her and Astera was a source of comfort rather than irritation. After all, the Prima of House Criamon did need to corral an entire orphanage of recalcitrant human orphans and god orphans, and her tones of obey-me-right-this-instant-or- _else_ couldn't have been more appropriate.

* * *

On my pillow lay Thoren's diary, open to the last poem he'd written to Inga. Again I read the lines about she who sleeps under a soft blanket of snow while bare trees raise their arms in wordless appeal to the steel gray sky. When Mel had shown it to me, my hurt pride had leaped straight from shock to betrayal. Now, reading it more slowly, I recognized it for what it was — a man's final farewell to a woman he once loved, a release, a fresh start. With this realization came healing, both emotional and physical, in what felt like a benediction from Mel. Tucking the diary under my pillow, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When I woke again, stretching luxuriously and feeling somehow whole, Cly was standing in her library in my mind, hands planted on hips, haranguing me about an esoteric mistake in Thucydides' _History of the Peloponnesian War_. Before she could start burning all of _his_ books, I swung my legs over the side of my bed, yanked all my new books out of my satchel, and presented them to her. "Cly! Look what I got!"

Cutting off mid-rant, she leaned forward with intense interest. "Oh, good, finally someone who likes reading! What languages do you know?" she inquired suspiciously.

"Modern Greek, ancient Greek, Latin, some Enochian," I reeled off.

"Oh, thank goodness!" She heaved a sigh of relief. "Quick, we need to read them all right now!"

"Wait, wait." I pulled the diary out from under my pillow and showed it to her as well. "We should read this too."

"Well, of course! That's a primary source on the creation of the Aegis, from the creator himself! It will be invaluable when we write the very first _secondary_ source."

Instead of flipping open the diary or any of the books, I paused and said with uncharacteristic mushiness, "It's good to see you again, Cly."

"Yes, yes, you too," she replied with equally unwonted emotion. "I hope both of you have learned your lessons."

"You mean not to do vulgar magic all the time? Why do people keep telling me that?!" Before she could inform me exactly why everyone told me that all the time, I quickly asked, "What was Tel's lesson?"

"Appreciate the gifts you have, obviously."

Ah, that meant Tel had re-donned his mantle of unnatural beauty, and I was back to my ordinariness. But that was fine with me if I had Cly and all my knowledge and my perfect memory back. _I_ wasn't the one who'd spurned my gifts, after all. And anyway, Thoren had loved me just as I was.

A sharp rap sounded at the door. "Marina! Do you have Clyde back?" called Tel. Even distorted by the wood, his voice sounded like ethereal music.

"I do!" I called back happily. "Do you have Mel?"

"Yep!" he replied just as enthusiastically.

In the other bed, Ynez groaned loudly, flopped over, and emphatically buried her head under her pillow. Oops. My little Prima needed her beauty rest. As quickly as I could, I grabbed my books and satchel and ran out into the hall to continue the conversation.

Tel was even _more_ beautiful than before, if that were even possible, and from his belt hung an amethyst tragic mask. "I found it on my bed," he explained when he noticed my gaze. "Clyde started telling this story about Amesthistic-something — "

"You mean Amethyste?" I interrupted, gladly flipping open the appropriate book in my mental library. "The girl whom Dionysus was going to kill because he was angry at a _different_ mortal and she happened to cross his path, so Artemis transformed her into a white, crystalline statue to save her? And then Dionysus was so remorseful that he wept tears of wine all over it until he dyed it purple?"

"I don't know how you stand Clyde," he remarked with a roll of his eyes. "But yeah, that sounds familiar. She started to tell me the story, and then forgot, and I told her she's a bad historian, and then she got mad and told me the whole story." He shrugged. "It was kind of silly. I forgot it already."

"Did she or Mel put the mask on your bed?" I asked curiously.

"Dunno, but it wasn't Clyde. She told me Mel is bad news, but I said the two of us — I mean Clyde and me — aren't well suited, so she told me to put the mask on and get it over with. So I did, and Clyde disappeared, and so did all my pimples!" Tel gave a happy sigh, pulled out a little pocket mirror, and admired his complexion with a beatific expression.

"What does the mask _do_?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, it lets me do magic. There will be tragedy for someone else whenever I use it. Hey, Marina, maybe we should turn everyone in Athens into dogs."

"Uhhhhhh." Now I really wished Ynez were awake. I'd have loved to see her face.

"Animals don't get the Plague as easily, right? So we can turn them all into dogs to save them!"

"Ummmm, right. Why don't you think about that some more while I read these books?"

"Okay!" he cheerfully waved me off to the library. "Better you than me!"

* * *

My library was the same haven it had been from my earliest childhood. Stacking Irene's books tidily beside all my wooden figurines, I settled at my desk with Thoren's diary. At long last, with Cly peering over my shoulder and waving her arms excitedly, I read it cover to cover.

Thoren being Thoren, he'd found time to write at least a few lines almost every single night, jotting down the day's events and pondering their ramifications. In particular, as an immigrant to Athens himself, he'd agonized over the morality of the Obscura. Although he truly believed that it was better to sacrifice a small number of people so he could stabilize the entire city, the refugees' fate _had_ disturbed him greatly. Were unbearable choices an intrinsic part of adulthood? I wondered.

Not so Cly, who was too busy flipping back and forth between different sections and cross-referencing details. "This is perfect!" she crowed. "This is brilliant! No other historian in the world has access to such a wonderful primary source! Look, look, here's where he explains why he came to Athens!" It was as Thoren had said that morning — the Hearth and food source had been the primary attractions, although, to my relief, his story about the childhood friend who'd longed to visit Athens was actually true.

However, what he'd very carefully concealed from me was the entire reason he'd decided to eradicate the Plague in the first place: Inga's sudden death from it after years and years of a passionate love affair. As was its wont, the disease struck without warning, and in its early stages, Thoren either missed — or denied — its gravity. When he grasped the danger, he threw all his energies into working with House Bjornaer to burn it out with Artes Vis and Animae, but to no avail. The night before she died, he wrote, "Odin, why didn't I ask her to marry me years earlier?" And then he vowed to devote his life to defeating the Black Death.

So he _had_ been honest with me, after the manner of Ars Fati. And who was I to begrudge him his omissions?

Ever the historian, Cly happily filed away all the subsequent details of the recruitment of mages and the move to Athens, and bookmarked all the passages that documented his thought processes while he designed the Aegis. Since she had that well under control, I searched for mentions of my name, which were unsurprisingly few — although Thoren did note with resigned amusement in one of his last entries that he seemed to be attracted to stubborn, irascible women.

"I'm not _that_ bad tempered, am I?" I protested to Cly, who paused in her note-taking to scrutinize the passage.

"Bookmark that so we can quote it when describing his personality," she directed. "And read faster."

Had I really expected empathy from her?

At Cly's urging, I skimmed the remaining entries and turned the last page — to discover a soppy love poem addressed to _me_. Its terrible clumsiness made me blush, but I committed it to memory anyway.

Cly approved, if for somewhat different reasons. "You might be a useful primary source too," she mused. "It's obvious from his diary that love drove the creative impulses of Thoren bani Bonisagus, and clearly you played an inspirational role in his last days." I flinched, and she added, evidently believing that it would console me, "Inspiring others to great deeds is no poor accomplishment, Marina."

And I'd be willing to agree, except that I wanted one great deed of my own — namely, rescuing Thoren from Hades as I'd promised him while he lay dying. I wanted more time with him. However swiftly he had moved our relationship, it hadn't been enough time, never enough time.

Cradling the diary in my lap, I turned to the books on the Eleusinian mysteries, hoping they would elucidate the path to rescue him, but the more I read, the more confused I felt. Someone — or many people — had planted inconsistencies and plausible misinformation throughout all the accounts. With extensive help from Cly, I interpreted some vague references as possibly citing an ancient treatise on Persephone's childhood. I didn't have it, but Hadrian's Library might.

Although I'd certainly worn out my welcome with Irene, she hadn't had the pleasure of ogling Tel yet. I found him chanting Enochian runes and healing Lily with Ars Animae while suggesting to her that he turn everyone into dogs. "Hey, Tel, can you check out a book from Hadrian's Library for me please?" I asked.

"Why do you need _another_ book?" he protested. "Don't you have a lot of books already?"

I ignored him and gave him the ancient Greek title. To my chagrin, he'd learned just enough from Cly to notice what I had missed: "Hey, doesn't that mean _Persephone's Child_? Why do you need a book on Persephone's child?"

I almost preferred the days before the swap, when Tel wouldn't have noticed anything at all and certainly wouldn't have known any ancient Greek. "Oh," I said vaguely, "Tessa suggested some books that would be helpful for dealing with the Plague, and they pointed to this one. Can you get it for me please?"

His brief spurt of intellectualism fading, he agreed amiably and sauntered off to the Acropolis. While I waited, I brought the book on Hades out into the yard to read in the sunlight. As Irene had warned, there just wasn't much on the underworld. I read that Hades (the god) was rarely seen outside it — which I'd already known, although Thanos apparently didn't — and that he did everything he could to keep the dead inside Hades (the place — how confusing was that? Thanos really needed a dose of creativity in naming things). However, I did learn a few useful tips on getting there safely — if not necessarily back and with a formerly dead person in tow.

While I was reading and keeping a half-observant eye on the comings and goings of the mice (and wishing for once that I needed to worry about Sy's pranks), Gordon passed behind me and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Ynez called Thanos here. He's still too strong. We can't put him on the loom yet. He'll have to come again." That was a blow. I'd thought that I'd played my part in their plot and was done with it, but apparently my services were still required.

A bizarrely shaped shadow fell over me, and I looked up into the pointy face of an incredibly smug, iridescent giant lizard thing that caught the eye with a strangely repugnant beauty. You stared at it transfixed because all of your senses were screaming that it was the most gorgeous thing you'd ever seen, while all of your logic was howling that it was a horrifyingly hideous, oversized reptile. Seriously, was Mel slipping or something?

The monstrosity hissed and tossed its head happily, shaking a mouthful of papers at me. Of its own volition, my hand lifted up to stroke its sparkly scales. "Don't touch it!" Cly shouted urgently. "That's a Komodo dragon! They're well known to be full of Plague!"

I snatched my hand back and sat on it.

Utterly unaware of my conflicting emotions, Tel proudly spat out several fragments of pages on the ground in front of me. "Ta-da! I got the book you wanted!" As I reached dubiously for one of the saliva-coated, blackened, flaking fragments, he quickly stepped on it. "Don't touch it!" he hissed anxiously. "It's full of Plague!"

About to touch the parchment, I froze. Maybe Mel could heal the Plague, but I wasn't about to try her benevolence. "Full of _Plague_? Why? How?"

"Hadrian's Library is such a weird place," he complained, nudging the pieces of parchment into a row in front of me. "You didn't tell me that it's falling down and there's an Aegis stone growing right in the middle of it."

I was speechless.

"It's all black and full of Plague," he continued. "The stone, I mean."

Finally I found my voice. "Is everyone okay? What are they doing about it?" I demanded. "Do they have it under control? Do we have Plague in the city now?"

"Dunno. They have wards around it. Verrus was there healing people. He said things are more or less okay. Oh — he also said that I'm even more beautiful than before." Preening, Tel tossed his head again and made little rainbows dance along the ground.

Before he turned into Narcissus, I interrupted, "So how did you get these pages if you couldn't get into the library?"

Tel refused to be rushed in telling his story. Ignoring me, he continued, "And then Verrus invited me back to the Tower of the Winds with him, but I had to get your book, so I said that the guy he was treating had the book I needed and then I used Ars Essentiae to pull the book out of the library past all the wards! I don't know why you wanted this book, Marina. It's like the center of the Plague. All of the books looked really old, but this one looked like it was, like, ten thousand years old or something. It flew out and just _exploded_ and pages went _everywhere_ so I turned into a Komodo dragon and grabbed some for you."

I supposed that if you were already full of the Plague, an extra bit wouldn't hurt you.

"Ooh, maybe we can turn everybody in Athens into Komodo dragons!" Tel suggested.

Or how about conquering the Plague, so no one would need to be turned into any kind of dog or lizard?

With Tel patiently turning pages for me, I perused the bits of _Persephone's Child_ that he'd rescued. They were frustratingly fragmentary, but Cly and I combined our knowledge of the Greek gods and managed to develop a tentative interpretation. Based on a few historical references, the book had been written only a few months after Persephone vanished. At the time, she'd been pregnant, and an entire fragment was devoted to speculations on who the father might be. ( _Hades?_ I wondered.) Another pondered the mysteries of when the baby was due and whether it might be male or female. But all these questions were rendered moot when she disappeared.

Even with Cly and my mental library at my disposal, I still couldn't figure out what Tessa hoped I'd learn from studying the Eleusinian mysteries. Did she want me to recover her long-lost grandchild? As if to taunt me for my impotence, dust puffed up as Tel shifted the ancient pages, and I doubled over, coughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

"Are you done?" he asked.

At my nod, he stared thoughtfully at the pages for a moment, then proceeded to eat them all. "Now it can't spread the Plague," he declared smugly.

At that moment, Ynez rushed out of the dorm — and stopped short when she saw him. "Tel?" she asked, awed. "Is that you?"

He hissed and nodded in reply.

"You're so _pretty_ ," she said wonderingly. "I _like_ this look."

There really was no accounting for taste. Honestly, she'd liked every single look he'd ever sported, probably including the Red disguise, but I was still wheezing too hard to say so.

Dragging her attention reluctantly from Tel's sparkly scales, Ynez told us, "I asked Thanos to come. He's just outside. We should go talk to him."


	17. Afternoon and Evening of Tuesday March 9

**Afternoon and Evening of Tuesday March 9, 1490**

On the other side of Astera's ward circle, Thanos leaned on his walking stick, contemplating a line of ants that marched along the side of the dirt path. He didn't even look up at our approach.

"Thanos bani…?" Deliberately Ynez let her voice trail off, the omission of his House a pointed impugnment of his trustworthiness.

"Solificati will do," he replied calmly, straightening at last and smiling politely at all of us. I didn't relax one bit. Letting my guard down around Thanos was only marginally safer than strolling into the Hearth and inviting Hestia out for a barbecue.

Flatly, Ynez pointed out, "But you're _not_ Solificati. You said so yourself."

"I was, actually, a very long time ago. I was Criamoni too, once." He stared at her challengingly as he spoke, as if daring her to deny his membership. Seriously — what Criamoni Primus or Prima had had the poor taste to admit _him_ into our House?

Sidestepping his claim to brotherhood, Ynez announced instead, "We have conferred and decided to permit you to examine the outer caves."

Thanos considered her expression, then scrutinized each of the rest of us in turn, his gaze pausing appreciatively on the iridescent Komodo dragon. His air of detachment evaporating, he said sharply, "You have conferred with _her_. I _knew_ you'd be unable to resist your curiosity. What did she tell you?"

That other practitioner of Ars Temporis attempted to sneak up behind him. Breezily, Ghallim replied, "She told us many things, many many things."

As if he'd expected Ghallim's arrival and answer all along, Thanos shifted his stance slightly so he could see all of us at the same time (but so he was facing Tel squarely) and nodded a greeting to his niece's erstwhile priest. "And what do you believe?" he asked Ynez neutrally.

"Ah, belief! Zat eez such a tricky subject! Eet eez so difficult to pin down ze nature of true belief, as I am certain you know, but I 'ave tried, and I can tell you — "

Cutting off Ghallim's theological digression, Ynez (who was picking up an air of command remarkably fast) replied concisely, "I believe that the present situation is untenable — but your proposed solution lacks mercy."

Thanos actually allowed himself a mirthless chuckle, a sound like footfalls behind a solitary traveller on a dark night, and I had to fight the urge to duck behind Tel. "You're seeking _mercy_ for one of my siblings. You do realize that they cannot be slain? If they stay — if they are permitted to stay — they cause _this_." And he swept his arm out in a grand gesture across the orphanage and the city, indicating the sickly orange stones of the failing Aegis, the frantic activity at the Acropolis and Tower of the Winds, the rising panic among the Sleepers.

Narrowing her eyes, Ynez pressed her lips together and then observed suspiciously, "You're implying that one of them caused the Plague."

To our surprise, he shrugged. "I'm not sure, but they certainly create many problems, as the historian knows." And he nodded at me — or, rather, at Cly. "The Plague may very well be one of them."

I had a wild fantasy of Thanos cooperating happily with all of us and obviating the need for the mice's plot. Lil believed it was doomed anyway, and not even Gordon, its general if not its architect, acted confident that it would _work_ — and overall, assaulting the lord of the dead seemed like a terrible idea, if only because all mortals served him in the end. I, for one, didn't want to spend eternity with a justly vengeful Hades. It really didn't bode well for a peaceful afterlife. Cautiously, I asked, "Why are _you_ trying to set things right?"

Thanos' reply was simple: "Because none of the others are." Which sounded positively philanthropic.

"He's worried," Ynez whispered to us.

Thanos, of course, overheard her (or already knew what she would say), and he answered as if she'd addressed him. "Yes. My sister is formidable. She has much more god in her than she is granted in the stories, which may very well be deliberate misdirection. But that is why she cannot stay here."

A gurgle and slurp came from Tel as the Komodo dragon's shape wavered, melted, and reformed into his human form. Straightening, he smoothed his tunic and ran a hand through his hair to ruffle it artistically, his every gesture commanding our attention.

When Ynez could tear her eyes away from him again, she told Thanos a little unsteadily, "You will examine the outer caves and tell us what you find, and then _we'll_ decide what to do about Hestia."

"'We,'" he repeated, slight surprise showing in his face. "So you did actually confer with your House? How very unlike your predecessor."

Both Ynez and I bristled at the implied criticism of Astera; Tel merely looked confused. Ghallim, loyal to no one but himself, nodded his agreement.

"Astera had her reasons," Ynez snapped. "If you would follow me?" Without waiting for an answer, she stormed into the Hearth and left the rest of us to straggle after her.

For all their vaunted family ties, Hestia was no happier to see her brother than we had been. Even in the outer caves, thick black smoke billowed around and threatened to choke us, but Thanos merely ordered, "Be quiet," as if dealing with a toddler throwing a tantrum. Lifting his horn, he played a lullaby, and the music solidified Astera's hold over Hestia. He then ignored his sister's outraged howls and focused on examining the magical flows within the Hearth. Almost immediately, he ran into Astera's wards. As though surprised by their strength, he probed at them cautiously and respectfully, like one master weaver studying the tapestry of another.

Through Ars Vis, I watched Ynez sketch an elaborate rune in the air, a sort of counter-spiral design that allowed her to select what to reveal. If Astera's wards were a dense, rich fabric, this Effect transformed specific portions of it into lace. Ghallim whispered to me and Tel, "Zis eez interesting — eet eez as eef ze wards were designed to support zis particular rune. I think ze 'Earth was constructed not only to obscure Ars Manes in ze orphanage, but also to make eet 'ard for anyone else in Athens to learn eet."

I murmured back, "That _would_ explain why Ynez is the strongest Ars Manes mage in the whole city now."

Unaware of our discussion, or perhaps unconcerned by its gist, Thanos projected an image of a growing cypress tree right onto the smoke. At its center lay the Hearth like a gold pendant, Hestia set in it like a pulsing ruby-red flower. The tree breathed steadily, in and out, in and out. "This is before the Aegis was built," Thanos said. "And this is after." Now leylines shot out of the pendant like fine golden chains, and the heartbeat grew stronger, almost as if the Aegis had been constructed specifically to strengthen Hestia.

"Eet cannot 'old much longer," Ghallim warned in a grim voice. "See zis leyline? Eet eez directed back into ze 'Earth."

Ynez protested, "But how could this have happened? Thoren didn't know about Hestia — did he?" She raised her eyebrows at me.

Seriously — why did people always suspect me of betraying House secrets to him? I'd barely even known him when he built this thing. I was _fifteen_. The only thing about Thoren bani Bonisagus that had concerned me was avoiding him! I opened my mouth to remind Ynez of just how assiduously I had done so, including a precise catalogue of every single time I had _almost_ had to talk to him, but unfortunately, right now — in front of Thanos and Hestia — was not the optimal time for a temper tantrum.

"It wasn't Thoren," I snapped fiercely instead. "He came to Athens _specifically_ so he could defeat the Plague."

Ghallim reminded us, "Eet didn't need to be Thoren. Eet could 'ave been any of ze Bonisagi."

That was just lovely. Traitors in the midst of the largest Hermetic House in Athens. I didn't even want to consider how Leona and Irene would go about rooting them out. Line up all the Bonisagi and interrogate each in turn? But wait — what was the point of keeping two masters of Ars Temporis around, if not to answer questions like this? "Thanos, can you see who did it?" I asked.

Absently tapping his fingers against the carvings on his horn, he stared three years into the past, searching for the construction of the Aegis. Seizing this moment of distraction, Hestia shoved a column of fire straight up the tunnel towards us.

"Run!" Tel shouted, whirling around.

Snapping out of his trance, Thanos led the retreat, and Ynez, Ghallim, and I tumbled after him, but Tel hesitated an instant longer to finger his arrows, as if he itched to pit himself against the goddess. His shoe caught on the uneven ground as he dreamily reached for his bow — and he pitched headlong into the vanguard of flames.

"Tel!" I screamed, running back to him.

Grabbing both his arms, I hauled him to his feet and tugged him back up the tunnel. Our hair and clothing were on fire, but we had no time to beat out the flames as we stumbled after the others, clutching each other's hands and trying desperately to stay just beyond Hestia's reach. At last, weak rays of daylight pierced the smoke, and Hestia reigned in her inferno so it licked at our backs instead of threatening to incinerate us. The caves echoed with her parting roar, "My followers are loyal to me in a way they will never be to you!"

And then we were outside, dropping to the ground to roll around and smother the flames while Ynez and Ghallim whacked at our clothing. "Thanks for staying behind to save me," Tel muttered sarcastically as soon as he'd sat up and checked his hair. (Somehow he made even the singed bits look romantic.)

Catching my breath at last, I glanced back into the Hearth in time to see one leyline flare. Hestia really was drawing power from it, just as Thanos had claimed. Unfortunately, it was a key leyline that we couldn't just cut off. To break Hestia's hold on it, we'd have to disable and rebuild the entire Aegis, which was most definitely not an option until we'd dealt with the Plague — unless we took Tel's suggestion and turned everyone into dogs or Komodo dragons. Which was also not an option. When I saw Thoren again, I really needed to have words with him about his designs. The _next_ time he built the eighth Wonder of the world to shield an entire city from a magical Plague, he really needed to account for the possibility that some of the people he was trying to save _might_ be harboring an angry deity that would corrupt both his builders and his creation.

Standing apart from us, Thanos was saying something to Ynez about a shallowing. "What is a shallowing, and why do we care?" Tel asked shortly, still peeved that only I'd returned for him.

"It is a place where the Umbra and the real world are close, my ignorant young one," Thanos explained with a faint smile. "And your loom chamber is one. We can restrain Hestia, bring her there, open the gates to Tartarus, and push her through."

"We're sending Hestia to the _underworld_?" I inquired, surprised by how conflicted I felt about his plan. It seemed like the height of injustice to enslave her for four hundred years and then — essentially — murder her.

"Your solution lacks mercy," Ynez reiterated.

"If she remains, she will destroy Athens," Thanos said flatly. "At least, in the underworld, her damage can be contained."

"Can we do eet now?" Ghallim put in practically.

"No. Right now she is too strong, and the enterprise would be too dangerous. You need to destroy the Aegis first."

"Destroy the Aegis?" exclaimed Tel. "But then the Plague will come into the city!"

Thanos only gave a tiny shrug. "Yes. It will. But if you want me to deal with Hestia, you need to destroy the Aegis. Ideally, you will do it in the next few days."

Ynez sighed heavily and said, "Very well. We will take it under advisement. We will confer and let you know our decision."

"Your predecessor was very competent," Thanos observed in an off-handed way, "to have maintained the equilibrium for so long." He didn't even seem to notice that Ynez flinched as if he'd slapped her. "Good day, Prima. You know how to reach me." Without waiting to say a proper farewell, he strode away.

"Wait!" I called, running after him. Maybe — just maybe — he'd willingly help the mice and me. Maybe — just maybe — we could all cooperate, with no betrayal involved, to resolve the issue of Persephone and the Plague and Thoren. (Yeah, and maybe if we invited Hestia out for a barbecue, she'd bring _cake_.) Catching up to Thanos in the olive grove by Ghallim's temple, I told him tentatively, with the same words and tone in which I'd addressed Tessa, "I think I know who you are."

He smiled at me humorlessly. "And _I_ think I know what you are going to ask. But you may as well ask it anyway."

Well, if that were the case, why bother? Here I was, trying to work with him, and he was being his usual infuriating self. He really did himself no favors with his manner. Still, in an attempt to act less _irascible_ than usual, I skipped to my next question: "What can I do to make it more likely that you will agree?"

"Nothing," he replied bluntly. "There are always people like you, and they will always try, but the answer is always the same." At my expression, he added what only the lord of the dead could have considered comforting, "You will be reunited soon enough anyway." Right, because a human lifetime was a blink of an eye to him. Helpfully, he proposed, "I can speed it up, if you wish." By killing me? What an offer!

"So there's nothing I can do?" I persisted, giving him one last chance.

He sighed, but his voice sounded amused in a condescending sort of way. "People like you never take no for an answer. You'll be back a second or a third time. We will talk then."

Well, no, we wouldn't — because the next time we met, he'd be bound fast on the loom and I'd be helping the mice extract his knowledge of the paths to the underworld. By rejecting me, he'd sealed his own fate.

* * *

As soon as I stepped from the shade of the trees back into the orphanage yard, Ynez pounced on me. "Marina! Who was in the Hearth?" she demanded.

I blinked at her in bewilderment. "Who was in the Hearth _when_?"

"The Bonisagi," she said, waving her arms in frustration that I couldn't read her mind. "On the raid. I need to know _exactly_ who came with Thoren to the Hearth and who didn't, because whoever is helping Hestia would have known about her and wouldn't have come."

It took me a long moment to process that tortuous sentence, and another to recall which faces I'd seen — or not seen — that day. Since I hadn't even arrived until the very end of the battle, when the Bonisagi had already begun to flee, and since I'd been more than a little preoccupied by Astera and Thoren dying right before my eyes, I couldn't reconstruct a full roster. "I didn't see Leona or Irene. Oh, and Leif wasn't there," I offered, "but that was because Thoren ordered him to stay. We _could_ consult Thoren's notes on the builders — who worked on what section of the Aegis and when."

Ghallim added, "We should also check who was a shapechanger, and who disappeared or 'died' during construction."

"That's a good idea," said Ynez, immediately herding all of us down the path into town. It wasn't until we were halfway to the Acropolis that she suddenly thought of a problem: "What will we tell the Bonisagi?"

"The truth?" Tel suggested with a promptness that would have pleased Astera. "That someone sabotaged the Aegis and we need to find out who did it?"

Ynez shook her head impatiently. "No! That would only alert Hestia's cult."

Drawing upon my reserves of statesman-liness, I suggested, "We could say that we heard about the Aegis stone in the library and that we're there to, umm, offer them our assistance."

"Zat sounds properly diplomatic," Ghallim approved.

"Yes. Yes, that should work," Ynez agreed. "'To offer our assistance,' 'to offer our assistance,'" she muttered to herself as we walked, trying to internalize the phrasing.

By the time we'd climbed the Acropolis, House Bonisagus had brought the Plagued Aegis stone more or less under control. Thick sets of wards shimmered in the air like a glass dome over Hadrian's Library, and a few Initiates were circling the base, inspecting it for any weak spots. Under the statue of Athena Promachus huddled a war council of Bonisagi, presided over by Leona, although even from a distance I could hear Irene screaming about her books. Alerted to our arrival by an apprentice, Leona broke away from her mages and greeted Ynez with a puzzled frown. Fortunately, she found our excuse sufficiently plausible. (Honestly, she mostly seemed displeased that we should see her House at such a disadvantage. "Your House is in some disarray," I felt like saying.)

"Thank you for your offer, Ynez, but it is unnecessary," she said crisply. "We will seal off and fill the library with concrete, and that should resolve the issue."

No wonder Irene was so distressed. "We can help you rebuild your library based on our archives," I blurted out, realizing even as I spoke that such a measly offer might seem insulting.

Luckily, Leona had known me long enough to recognize that I meant well, and she forbore to comment on our pitiful collection. "Yes, thank you," she replied graciously. "I'm sure Irene will be — reassured." No doubt Irene was relieved that she'd saved a few books by lending them to me.

"Prima!" Leif skidded to a halt in front of Leona. "The concrete is nearly ready! You said that you wished to check everything one last time before we seal off the library."

With a quick nod to us, Leona rushed into the throng of Bonisagi surrounding the library, and in the confusion we shuffled off to a side, more or less in the direction of Thoren's workroom. Although I'd assumed that we'd seize this opportunity to peruse his notebooks, Ynez had other plans. "Tel," she directed, half-ducking behind a column, "distract them so I can read their minds."

Before I could protest, Tel channeled Mel's amethyst mask in a very poorly conceived plan to crack the Aegis stone. "I'll just split it slightly," he explained. But _of course_ at this critical moment, he had to botch.

A bar of amethyst light blazed from the mask, burst through the wards, and whumped down on the Aegis stone like a mallet. The stone shattered right down the center, and a swarm of Plague locusts exploded outward through the collapsing dome and began biting everyone in sight. After the insects flooded a foul, dark miasma that sank to the ground and slowly oozed across people's feet as they jumped around and slapped at the locusts. Yelping in distress, Tel rushed forward to heal people who'd been bitten, throwing up an Ars Animae shield around Irene in passing.

This was probably the best distraction we'd get.

Still hiding by the column and holding a mirror in the folds of her skirt, Ynez scrutinized Irene's sins — and inhaled sharply. "She really really hates immigrants," she whispered to us, shocked by the level of venom in Irene's mind. "Marina, did you know that?"

"No," I whispered back, equally stunned. "I mean, I knew she was a _purist_ , so she thinks Greek culture is the best, but — but she was happy working for Thoren. So how can she hate immigrants? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, she also has a lot of wrath directed at Greeks who aren't purists."

"That can't be right," I started to protest. "She doesn't hate _me —_ "

Just then Irene — who apparently also knew something of Ars Mentis — noticed the invasion of her mind, abruptly wheeled around, and started screaming at us. "How dare you!" she shrieked. From her robes she whipped out her wand and leveled it straight at Ynez.

Panicking, Ynez started summoning something — _oh, please_ , I thought, _please not the bear again_. "How dare _I_?" she muttered furiously to herself. "How dare _I_? _I'm_ not the one who built the Obscura to bar immigrants and force them to wander the countryside until they die from starvation and disease! _I'm_ not the one who treats immigrants living in the city like trash! _I'm_ not the pagan cultist!"

Er, no — realistically, Avaris, Tel, Ghallim, and I all fell into that category — plus the mice were formerly the _objects_ of pagan cultic worship, which should be even worse. But illogically and fortunately, Ynez seemed happy to make exceptions for her friends.

Powered by her rage, the bear burst from thin air, roaring in fury and swiping at Irene with its great paws. At the same instant, the librarian yanked out a quill and began scrawling words right in the air, stabbing the pen with enough force to pierce the thickest vellum. Pages of books from her ruined library exploded into vortices of fire and swooped across the Acropolis to spin around Ynez. Her hair and clothing caught fire, and with a shriek she dropped to the ground, rolling over and over in a desperate attempt to put out the flames.

I was too stunned to react, while Ghallim crouched behind another column to assess the situation, and so Tel acted next. Drawing his bow in one smooth motion, he barely paused to aim before he shot Irene at point-blank range right in the shoulder, using the arrow as an Ars Animae Focus to rip her Pattern. She doubled over in pain, one hand clutching the quill still, the other clasped to the arrow. Blood welled up around her fingers and ran down her arm, staining her sleeve bright red.

Finally I broke out of my trance and started screaming towards the library, "Leona! Help! She's killing my Prima!" With no time to shield more than one person, I hurled an Ars Essentiae wall around Ynez as she lay helplessly on the ground, hair and clothing still smoking.

Led by Leona, the Bonisagi were already stampeding in our direction, shouting and gesticulating wildly and brandishing wands. Ignoring their approach, gaze still fixed on Irene, Tel reached for a second arrow.

Beginning to scrabble to her feet with the aid of the column, Ynez yelled at him, "No! We still need to know!" Pointing her mirror with no attempt at concealment, she hurled herself back at Irene's mind — and screamed as she ran straight into Hestia's fiery barrier. An Ars Temporis trap snapped shut, and time froze around her.

Fortunately, Irene didn't even try to leverage her opponent's vulnerability. Her only thought for flight, she summoned Ars Essentiae and shot up into the air. But before she could rise above the statue, the bear — oh gods — the bear sprouted seraph _wings_ — massive, glowing, feathery wings like the wings on Zoe's angel. With one powerful leap, it too was airborne. Bounding off the side of a column, it lunged at Irene.

Tel jumped through the air to land right in the center of the plaza and struck a heroic pose, sunlight reflecting from his hair and glistening on his muscles — even the Bonisagi slowed down to gape — and glamorously shot two arrows, one after another.

Claws outstretched, the bear leaped onto Irene's back and began to drag her down with its weight — she screamed and flailed, struggling to fling it off — and the arrows arced through the air and plunged one right after another straight into her heart, the second arrow splitting the shaft of the first.

By now the Bonisagi had surrounded us with drawn wands, their shouts blending into one wordless roar. Facing down a circle of furious faces and merciless wand-tips, I strengthened Ynez's shield one more time and then pressed myself against the hard marble column, wishing harder than I'd ever wished for anything in my life that Thoren would come — right _now_ would be perfect — to save us all. If only he were here, he'd stop his mages. He'd listen to me. He'd _trust_ me as Leona and the rest of the Bonisagi had no reason to. "Oh, Thoren, please help me," I whispered, and such was my desperation that for a moment I saw his golden hair, his confident stride, the way the crowd parted before him.

But of course he didn't come.

The last thing I saw, before the Bonisagi unleashed a brutal Ars Mentis attack that I could not block, was Irene dropping to the ground in a crumpled heap, the flame symbol of Hestia glinting from a necklace I'd never seen before, and Ghallim kneeling over her, hunting time with Ashton. Then everything went black.

* * *

Later I learned that Ghallim saved us all with his quick thinking. After ascertaining that Irene was dead, the bear continued its rampage, plowing through the circle of Bonisagi and mauling mages. From within the time trap, Ynez struggled to dismiss the beast, but hampered by Ars Temporis and distracted by pain, she botched. The resulting backlash stung the bear like a swarm of bees. Bellowing with rage, it spun and contorted, batting blindly at Bonisagi who had worked on the Obscura. When it arrived at Leona, who to her credit faced it fearlessly, it transformed into a ursine version of Zoe's seraph and slashed her face with a flaming sword.

Before House Criamon could murder a third leader of House Bonisagus, Ghallim leaped to the rescue. Enchanting his spear with Quintessence, he vaulted forward, shouting, "Back, foul demon!" and stabbed fiercely at the bear.

About to savage an Initiate, the bear spun around with a roar. Ashton sprang out of Ghallim's mind to grab one of its arms but accidentally jumped into the path of the spear, which raked across the bear's chest and sank into Ashton's side. Injured too badly to sustain its corporeal existence, the bear dissipated with offended dignity, as if it had intended to do so anyway — but not before it twisted the spear cruelly in Ashton. Panting and bleeding, the lynx-god discorporated and re-coalesced in Ghallim's mind, licking his wounds.

The bear's rampage had the fortunate side effect — the _only_ fortunate side effect — of snapping the Bonisagi's hold on the Ars Mentis Effect holding Tel and me unconscious. Opening my eyes slowly, I found the four of us still surrounded by a circle of wands, though now they were trembling a little. The Ars Temporis Effect around Ynez had finally worn off, and she slid down the column to sit down hard, rubbing her temples.

"Prima Ynez!" Leona shouted furiously. "How dare you invade my House and kill my Secunda!"

"Kill your — " Ynez spun around to stare at Irene's body. "Oh no. No no no." Without even trying to rise, she crawled across the square to Irene and helplessly shook her shoulder. "No no no. You can't be dead!"

"I _demand_ an explanation for your actions! Did your House come to the Acropolis under false pretenses in order to murder our mages?"

Standing shakily and bracing one hand against the column, I begged, "But Irene drew her wand first! Ynez — Ynez only summoned the spirit in self-defense! Leona, you _saw_ that, didn't you?"

"No," she said flatly. "What I saw was that your House showed up uninvited and unannounced, shattered the Aegis stone to release the Plague, and then murdered my Secunda while we were distracted by containing the Plague. So tell me, Prima of House Criamon, why did you do it?"

Stumbling over to Ynez and grabbing her wrist, I pulled her away from Irene and to her feet. "We have to tell her the truth!" I hissed into her ear.

"We can't!" she hissed back. "We still don't know whom we can trust!"

"Okay, so we make her say whether she's helping you-know-who, and I test her with Ars Fati." When she hesitated, I gave her arm a little shake. "Ynez, it's the only way!"

I watched her expression sharpen as she reluctantly drew the same conclusion. "All right." Facing Leona imperiously, Ynez demanded, "Prima Leona, have you ever tampered with the Aegis?"

Leona sputtered indignantly. "What kind of question is that?" she asked with what seemed like genuine outrage. "The nerve! Hurling entirely unfounded accusations as a way to distract us from the _murder_ you committed in public, right in the heart of House Bonisagus!"

"Just answer the question!" said Ynez, radiating intensity. " _Have you ever tampered with the Aegis_?"

"No! Absolutely not!" shouted Leona, completely infuriated.

Under my breath, I murmured my little poem, trying to keep the Bonisagi from overhearing and recognizing my Focus, "Roses are red, violets are blue, we're telling the truth, are you too?"

Too many of them did know all of my Foci — the consequence of spending too much time here — and I immediately found myself facing down a dozen wands. Still, they failed to countermagic my Effect, and I nodded at Ynez. "She's telling the truth."

Drawing a little breath to steel herself, Ynez informed Leona, "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Prima, but Irene tampered with the Aegis. She weakened its protection against the Plague."

"That's nonsense! What possible motivation could she have had? May I remind you that she was an Athenian?"

"We have to tell her the truth!" I whispered urgently to Ynez. "Tell her!"

"But we can't!" Ynez insisted. "It's the mystery of House Criamon!"

Ignoring our argument, Leona continued to rant, "If you think I'm going to believe these ridiculous aspersions cast by unruly, _dangerous_ children in a feeble attempt to exculpate themselves from _murder —_ "

"Leona," I begged, "can't you read our minds? It's the truth! Please, you have to believe us!"

"Marina! That's a terrible idea!" Ynez exclaimed, tugging at my arm.

At the same time, Leona snapped, "Absolutely not! House Bonisagus does not indulge in vulgar magic on the whims of delusional children. Did Astera teach you nothing?"

I gambled and stabbed a finger in the direction of Irene's pendant. "Leona, look at the symbol Irene's wearing! Don't you recognize it?"

Unfortunately, Leona was a transplant to House Bonisagus, not a scholar of magical history and practices herself, and Hestia's worship had never been widespread even a thousand years ago. "No, I do not," she told me sternly. "What I do recognize is that House Criamon, as I warned the Areopagus, is a threat to the stability of Athens. You, Prima Ynez, should never have been allowed to remain in the city after you murdered an Adepta Maior of another House — much less rise to become Head of your own. And now you have slain the member of _our_ House who was most versed in Ars Vis and upon whom rested all of our hope for sustaining the Aegis." Ynez and I gasped. Neither of us had known that House Bonisagus was running out of Ars Vis experts. "So, Prima of House Criamon, in my position, what would _you_ do?"

In a tiny voice, staring at the ground, Ynez mumbled, "I don't know."

"As I expected," Leona said in a scathing tone. Ignoring me and Tel, she turned to Ghallim. "Priest of Athena, what is your recommendation?"

Frowning, he replied, "In zis time of danger and tragedy, we must all work together to save ze city."

"Well," snapped Leona, glaring at each of us Criamoni in turn, "it would help if you stopped killing adepts!" When she came to Tel, he smiled so adorably at her that she sighed and patted him on the head like a small child, even though he was an adult and had fired all three arrows. Ynez looked all too happy to shoulder the blame of the crime _he'd_ committed. Marginally calmer, Leona told Ynez and me, "I do not believe you did it maliciously or even deliberately, because you had absolutely nothing to gain from it. Hence it shows a terrifying lack of control and possibly even incipient Marauderism, as one would expect from senior mages of House Criamon. As such, you are a menace to the safety of the city itself." I opened my mouth to protest, but Ynez kicked me. " _However_ , we unfortunately do not have the resources to imprison any of you. What we _can_ do is ensure that you have no further opportunity to attack our House. Never return to the Acropolis again."

Stunned and horrified — to be barred from Thoren's home felt like losing him a second time — I tried again to protest, but Ynez stomped on my foot and Leona overrode me. "Prima Ynez, do you agree to this solution?"

Ynez nodded wordlessly.

"Wait here then." Leaving us guarded by a dozen Bonisagi, Leona retreated to the side with a small group of remaining semi-senior mages.

"We really really really have to tell her!" I pleaded with Ynez.

"But we really really really can't," she replied. Lowering her voice so that our guards couldn't hear, she whispered, "How do you think they'll react if they find out that we have a demon chained up in the Hearth that may be causing the Plague?"

She did have a point, although none of the current members of House Criamon had played any role in that decision and were as much victims of the situation as anyone else in Athens. But before I could argue further, Leona returned, followed by a nervous Initiate Exemptus. Formally, the Prima of House Bonisagus proclaimed, "Ynez, Prima, you will not remove this sigil that Initiate Symone will place on you. It will warn all Bonisagi of your approach so that they may avoid you."

Squaring her shoulders, Ynez stared fixedly ahead and grimaced as Symone carefully placed an Ars Conjunctionis Effect on her. His runes seared raw, oozing brands that sank through her skin to burn themselves onto her guilt. Stirring a little, the serpent wrapped itself into a remorseful ball around her heart, all dull scales and despairing coils.

"Now go," Leona commanded. "In the future, our Houses will discuss arcane issues separately. If there is any need for communication — and I pray that there will not be — I will interact with Priest Ghallim."

When Ynez started trudging back towards the Propylaea, a pitifully childlike figure with slumped shoulders and charred skirts, Ghallim touched her on the shoulder and said softly, "I will stay 'ere and investigate ze Aegis."

"You don't need _my_ permission," Ynez reminded him dejectedly. "I'm not your Head of House."

Although Tel trotted after Ynez promptly, I lingered to stare around the crowd of Bonisagi, searching desperately for one friendly face. They all knew me, had seen me around the Acropolis for years. Surely one of them — just _one_ — would believe that I wasn't a raving lunatic murderer? But a sea of unforgiving faces met my eyes, fear thinly masked by a veil of anger. Leif dropped his gaze, Georgios glared and fingered his wand, and Nitsa hissed venomously, " _Porna_. Did you seduce Thoren so you could lure him to his death and decimate our House?" At her accusation, vitriolic whispers reared their heads and struck at me. " _Porna_. Spy. Traitor."

"I — no!" I cried, shocked and betrayed that they could even _think_ it of me. "No! Never! I _loved_ him — " Hard, cynical stares greeted my pleas. I spun around to face their Prima, my last friend in House Bonisagus. "Leona," I begged. "You have to believe me. I didn't do it. Please, you have to believe me." Surely she, of all people, knew that I hadn't seduced Thoren, that I hadn't betrayed him and his compatriots to their deaths….

Walking forward at a dignified pace, ignoring her mages' warnings, she placed her hands on my shoulders and drew me to a side. "I did warn you," she murmured, and I hung my head. So she had. I was the one who had discounted the consequences. "But this is _not_ the time and place to defend yourself." Then, more loudly for the benefit of her nervous followers, she proclaimed, "Adepta, as Hadrian's Library is no more, the Acropolis can have no further appeal for the librarian of House Criamon."

In a daze, I muttered, "Yes — yes, you're — right. I — goodbye."

Taking this face-saving opening she had offered me, I left the Acropolis for the very last time. Stumbling down the path after Ynez and Tel, I resolutely refused to look back.

* * *

Partway between the Acropolis and the Agora, Verrus bounded up to us in lion form, took one look at a thin cut across Tel's cheekbone — he must have landed on a rock when the Bonisagi knocked him out — and demanded, "What happened? We sensed the echoes of magical combat all the way across the city."

Resting his forehead against Verrus' shoulder, Tel reported, "We found someone tampering with the Aegis and killed her."

"Good!" roared Verrus. "Traitors should always be punished by death. But you — " he said, scrutinizing Ynez's expression. "You look guilty."

Without meeting his eyes, she explained in a very soft voice, "I killed Irene by accident."

"What?" bellowed the Secundus of House Bjornaer. "You _killed_ the _Secunda_ of House Bonisagus by _accident_?" In his agitation, he paced around the middle of the road in small circle. "Prima," he said at last. "Your accidents are very potent."

Ynez just nodded and sort of hunched in on herself.

"I know!" Tel announced suddenly. "Since we're always doing things by accident, we should _try_ to spread the Plague! Then we'll end up getting rid of it instead!"

Throwing back his great, maned head, Verrus howled with laughter. "Oh, Tel, you really are so funny. But this cut — we must do something about it. It might _scar_." And he proceeded to ignore the two crippled young women who were swaying on their feet before him, right on the verge of collapse — in favor of repairing the _finest_ cut that _might_ marr Tel's face. The world really wasn't fair. But when I cast a glance in Ynez's direction, she was nodding approval of Verrus' priorities.

"Up you go," Verrus said when he'd finished, and Tel vaulted gracefully onto his back. "Let's go home."

"Wait — !" I called as the lion bounded towards the Tower of the Winds. I needed to speak to Tessa, and I could really use a ride. Somewhere during the walk, in between the stabbing pains in my head and chest every time I so much as breathed, the idea had come to me that Ynez's refusal to reveal any of the truth to our allies was doing more harm to the greater good, than good to us. I was considering telling at least a little bit of the truth to Leona. If it had been Thoren, I wouldn't have hesitated, but I wasn't certain how much to trust Leona, and I wanted Demeter's maternal advice before betraying my Prima and my House. I might have limped along after the lion and Tel, but one look at Ynez told me that I couldn't abandon her too.

And so the two of us finished our lonely walk home in grim silence. As soon as we reached the orphanage, Ynez shut herself into our bedroom and hunched over wordlessly, sightlessly on her bed, bundled up entirely in the coils of her serpent. Since she obviously wanted to be alone, I slipped back out and ran straight into Gordon and Jamie, who were traipsing out of the kitchen with a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese. (As I didn't hear any screaming from Mother Doria, I assumed that they'd actually asked her permission. Not that I was in a mood for disciplining anyone anyway.)

"Did you need my help with...anything else?" I asked delicately, hoping I wasn't tipping our hand to Thanos by my very question.

Jamie replied immediately, "Right now we're modifying the loom." He gave me a meaningful look. "We'd really prefer that Ynez not find out, although so far she hasn't checked so it shouldn't be a problem. If possible, keep her away until we finish?"

 _Am I my sister's keeper?_ I felt like asking with some of my old snarkiness. But my amusement faded as I contemplated facing her fury when she learned the plan — not so much over the betrayal of Thanos, but over our treachery in hiding it from her. At fourteen, Ynez would interpret our deception as a challenge to her authority and a vote of non-confidence in her abilities as a replacement for Astera. Well, I'd just have to hope we could keep it a secret until we got Thanos into the loom chamber, and then pray to all the mice that she'd play along with us.

Gordon added, "He should be sufficiently weakened by restraining Hestia for us to deal with him. Although — if possible, try to learn Ghallim's intentions. He's something of a wild card."

That was putting it very mildly. I nodded vigorously. "I'll try," I promised them. Then I probed carefully, "I've been reading everything I can about Persephone and her child. Astera seemed to think it's relevant, given the pomegranate…?"

Both of the mice shook their heads. "I don't know much about the others," admitted Jamie, the more scholarly of the two. "I don't even know _why_ Astera chose a pomegranate for her Focus."

"Tessa, Persephone, and the others are not from any of our pantheons," Gordon explained, and I flushed a little, remembering our earlier conversation. He'd never ended up divulging his god nature — and I certainly wasn't going to ask again. "We have focused on Thanos entirely."

"Gooooooordon! Jaaaaaaamie!" Helen's voice drifted across the yard. "You're starving Sy! He's huuuuungry!"

"Go," I told them. "I'll see what I can find out from Ghallim."

* * *

Watching the mice run into the Hearth, I suddenly remembered an odd conversation I'd had with Astera a couple months ago. She'd called me to her office after a particularly fascinating lecture on the value of preserving the magical knowledge of the past (a sermon to the choir right there), the ethics of magic (to be honest, our House was overdue for a refresher course), and other such foundational Hermetic principles. Tutoring me after class in advanced magic was nothing unusual for Astera, but that day she had brought up a non-magical topic with unwonted intensity. Leaning across her desk, she'd said, "There is a whole book of hypothetical ethical questions posed by the ancient Greeks. For example, would you flip a switch to kill one man if it would save five more? Is it the _act_ of flipping that matters, or do we determine the optimal end state and then extrapolate backward to see if we should flip the switch?"

In my head, Cly nodded along. "I know the exact book," she told me. "It's one of the classics that ethicists cite."

Since Astera couldn't hear Cly, she continued without pausing, "These are all hypotheticals, of course, and most Sleeper scholars dismiss them as a philosophical flight of fancy. However, in the realm of magic, we are required to make these decisions all the time and in situations we could never have imagined."

I protested, thinking of Nepos' biographical sketches of great statesmen, "Why is it so different for mages? What about kings and generals? Aren't they confronted by moral dilemmas too?"

She considered my question for a moment. "You're right. It's probably more a matter of frequency — because of the power we wield, mages encounter such situations much more often than Sleepers, even Sleeper kings and generals."

"I'd argue that war itself is an ethical dilemma, so by definition anything a general does applies to this 'hypothetical.'"

With an impatient gesture, Astera rebuked me, "Don't quibble over technicalities, Marina. _You're_ not a philosopher. Now, suppose you're an Adepta Maior of Ars Animae, and you're caught in a trap set by a mage far more powerful than you. He has forced you to choose between freeing yourself or your two Sleeper friends."

"Why would a mage care so much about a couple of Sleepers?" I muttered rebelliously to Cly.

"Shhh! This is interesting!" my avatar shushed me.

"If you fight this mage," Astera said, "he will kill all three of you. The _only_ way he will allow any of you to escape is for you to leave by yourself — or to allow your friends to leave without you. And then you will die."

I didn't like this situation, even hypothetically, but the answer seemed clear cut. "I'd save my friends, of course," I said promptly. "It's the only right thing to do."

Astera shook her head. "It's not so simple. Suppose your city is also suffering the aftermath of a major conflict — and your Ars Animae skills are desperately needed at the hospital. You know that if you sacrifice your friends, you will save orders of magnitude more lives on just that one day, not to mention over the course of your lifetime, than if you save your two friends and then die yourself."

I was indignant. "What kind of silly question is this?" I exclaimed. "Who would ever be stuck in this situation? When would it ever be relevant to real life?"

Astera sighed. "Marina, I know that you think this is no more than idle fluff, and I pray to Rhea that for you that will always be true. But we live in a cruel world, so humor me and spend the rest of today pondering this question: How would you act? Suppose that your friends — knowing that _their_ families and friends would die for lack of your aid — beg you to save yourself. Or suppose that they selfishly beg for their own lives, even knowing you would save so many others. Or suppose that they're not your friends at all, but despised bullies who tormented you throughout your childhood. Suppose there are a hundred friends instead of only two. How would you decide — but, more importantly, _why_? What are the factors that matter most to you?" Then, forestalling the obvious answer: "And do not tell me you would fight the mage, no matter how tempting it would be. You would die, and others would honor your loss, but it would not bring you back to us. I have seen too many promising students throw away their lives for their unbreakable pride."

That last part, delivered with endless bitterness, no longer sounded hypothetical at all, and I frowned and remarked as much. But Astera only shook her head and dismissed me to the library, where I humored her by obediently poring over books for the rest of the day. At first I started to write an exhaustive essay exploring the different schools of philosophy. Halfway through the enterprise, however, I realized that the answer — _my_ answer — was too simple to obscure with philosophical contortions: I had to act in such a way that I could face myself in the mirror. And — no matter the hypothetical good I could do — I could never forgive myself if I knowingly walked out of a trap, leaving my friends to die. It would be even worse if it were my enemies, actually, because then I'd always wonder whether I had chosen out of malice. I summarized this in a few sentences on a clean sheet of parchment and slid it under Astera's study door. She'd never commented on the matter, and I'd quickly forgotten about it. But now I had to wonder — had Astera-Despina foreseen the day Hestia would break her bonds, and I would be confronted by an unbearable ethical dilemma?

Had Astera posed the same question to the others, and if so, how had they replied?

I was about check on Ynez and ask her, but a bright purple glow began to light up the path leading to the orphanage. In the distance, I saw Zoe approach, her seraph floating overhead, an angry red scar still running across her face.


	18. Evening and Night of Tues March 9, 1490

**Evening and Night of Tuesday March 9, 1490**

As the Inquisitor approached, I ducked behind the ruins of the old library and crouched by a crumbling wall, the same crumbling wall over which Irene had peered just a week ago when she brought me the Aegis map. All three dogs ran up to me, Gus and Lily regarding me with knowing expressions and Timo wagging his tail hopefully at me. "I _know_ it's a disaster!" I hissed at Tel's parents. "Don't _look_ at me that way! Cly?" I asked urgently, pulling Timo into my arms like a very furry golden shield. "Cly — can Zoe tell that I was the owl?"

My avatar pursed her lips. "See, this is the problem with getting too involved in human events," she lectured prissily. "It prevents you from standing aside and observing the primary actors, because now you need to worry about how they will respond to you."

That was so incredibly unhelpful. "Yes, I know, but it's too late for that now. Do I need to hide?"

Cly glared at me. "How would I know? Humans always act irrationally. If you're asking whether being connected to Mel altered your Resonance — well, the question you should consider is whether Mel would have _wanted_ to conceal it."

So...no then. The Muse of Tragedy probably deemed it most appropriate for me — in the capacity of Secunda — to have assaulted one of House Criamon's last allies, who just happened to have not only the resources to destroy us, but also the motivation to do so if she ever learned the truth about the orphans, and who on top of all of that was in love with our Prima and might very well wreak vengeance on all of us if that love ever changed to hate.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" demanded Cly. "Either interview her, or get into a position where you can observe her interview with Ynez."

Hugging Timo even more tightly until he whined and squirmed free, I peered around the corner. Zoe was just crossing Astera's wards when Ghallim strolled out from the dining room to intercept her.

"Hello, master priest!" he greeted her cheerfully.

The Inquisitor drew up short and favored him with a disapproving frown. "I see Ynez has much to teach you," she said sternly. "I am female and hence cannot possibly be a priest." Forestalling his response, she continued, "But I am not here to lecture you. What _happened_?"

Ghallim perked up and stabbed a finger upward. "Ah," he explained, launching into storytelling mode. "You see, zere eez an orphanage 'ere. Eet was founded several 'undred years ago. Eet eez a place where young children without families…."

Stalking up to him, Zoe loomed over him threateningly — incidentally turning her side to me. "You are trying my patience!" she boomed. "I don't care about what happened when the orphanage was founded! I want to know what happened at the Acropolis and how Ynez is handling it!"

With a quick "Come on!" gesture at Timo, I scooted backwards to the far side of the library and, hunching over, darted around the backs of the buildings until I slipped into the Hearth. Then I straightened up and hurried down the tunnels to the Prima's study, where Ynez had hidden after Ghallim and I bullied her into eating dinner. Without bothering to knock, I burst through the door, rounded Despina's massive oaken desk, and dove straight under it. She didn't even try to stop me — her only response was to draw her serpent more closely around her neck like a scarf or a boa. Timo wriggled under her skirts and plopped down beside me, panting happily at this new game.

"What are you doing?" Cly demanded. "Is this behavior becoming of a historian and a Secunda?"

"I'm hiding from Zoe!" I whispered back. " _You_ wanted me to observe her!"

"Not from under a desk!"

Both of us stilled as Ghallim's and Zoe's voices drifted through the door. "Zere was a misunderstanding about ze nature of ze Aegis," Ghallim was explaining earnestly. "And zen zere was an explosion, and zen someone attacked us, and zen a bear attacked _zem_ and killed zem — but don't worry, ze bear was mostly slain — "

" _Mostly_ slain?"

"Yes, eet was a giant bear! Almost like one of ze Plague bears! Zere were wings everywhere!" A short pause during which I could imagine him cocking his head in mock confusion. "And eet was flaming too!"

The door of the study slammed open, and from under the desk I saw Zoe's slippers approach. "You'll be quiet in the house of God," she exclaimed in frustration, casting Ars Mentis-enhanced serenity over the office so she could sense the presence of her God and generally tune Ghallim out.

Although my fear and agitation made it easy for me to fend off the Effect, Ghallim cut off mid-sentence, and in his silence I sensed the stillness of a lynx on the hunt.

I could also tell that the Effect ordered the guilt serpent to behave itself and stop feeding Ynez's misery, an impression that Zoe herself reinforced when she walked right around the desk to place a comforting hand on Ynez's shoulder. "What happened to you?" she cried with evident distress. "So many injuries! Could that healer boy not see to them?"

"Soror Zoe?" Ynez asked, coming back to herself at last. With a groan, she slumped over her desk and hid her face in her arms. "Soror Zoe, you should stay away from me. I'm dangerous."

"No, of course you're not. But why are we using this foreign tongue?" To Cly's and my annoyance, they switched to Spanish.

"Here!" Cly shoved her way to the forefront of my mind, opening a Spanish textbook right under my nose. "It's just a derivative of Latin — you should be able to pick it up."

With her help, I translated the conversation.

"I killed Irene," Ynez admitted, her muffled voice suggesting that she was still addressing the surface of the desk.

Zoe's tone contained only concern and anxiety, not a hint of recrimination. "What did she do to merit your wrath? I know you, Ynez, and I know that she must have been more than just a witch for you to take — such drastic action." In the pause that followed, I could practically see her frowning at Ghallim, perhaps envisioning him tied to a stake on a pile of kindling.

"I didn't mean to," Ynez mumbled. "But she attacked me."

"Well, if she attacked you, of course you needed to defend yourself. But — well, I suppose I'm not that familiar with the interior workings of House Bonisagus, but from what I've seen, they do not seem like the type to strike without reason. You must give me more details so I can help you."

In a voice full of shame, Ynez confessed, "I was reading her mind. I had to see if she were a member of a dangerous cult."

"And was she?" Zoe asked sharply. "If she were, then you acted justly and God will forgive you."

"No, I didn't act justly!" Ynez's clothing rustled, and I guessed that she'd raised her head to meet Zoe's eyes at last. "Irene is dead because I was too weak to contend with my base impulses!"

"Oh, Ynez." For a moment, Zoe sounded like Astera and Avaris consoling Ynez after she'd killed Vanessa. "James 1:19." To my relief, she switched to Latin to recite, "'Remember this, my dear brothers: Everyone should be quick to listen but slow to speak and slow to human anger; God's saving justice is never served by human anger.'" Switching back to Spanish, she said firmly, "You are skilled and you can control your anger. You just need to teach it that _it_ serves you. Anyway, this guilt is not becoming of a Prima. You acted in the interests of your House. You were hunting a dangerous cult — and Irene should have known that she would face severe consequences for joining it."

"But hunting that cult is such a delicate task," Ynez moaned, probably thinking about how manifesting a giant, vicious, homicidal, _winged_ bear right in front of Hestia's followers was just the most subtle thing ever. Adroitness incarnate was our Ynez.

"House Quaesitor can help," offered the head of the Spanish Inquisition, whose first action upon entering Athens had been to lobotomize _the_ most influential local priest and then seize his church.

Ynez scooted back in her chair, craned her head back, and gave Zoe a _look_. "I heard what the Inquisition did at home" was all that she needed to say.

Zoe hesitated, and when she did speak, I could tell that she was choosing her words very carefully, even though she was using her native tongue. "The Inquisition is — many faced," she said at last. "Its role here is different. You'll note," she added drily, "that we _haven't_ torched this city yet."

"Torch the city?" Ynez asked in alarm.

" _Relax_ , Ynez. It was a joke."

If Zoe wanted to burn Athens to the ground, she'd have to get in line behind the Plague and Hestia. Softly Ynez said, "There is a flaw in the Aegis. A deliberate weakness. We have been investigating who tampered with it."

Sharply, Zoe asked, "Was it Thoren?"

"No, I don't think so," Ynez replied. Wait — what did she mean, she didn't _think_ so? I'd told her very explicitly that Thoren had nothing to do with it and would never have condoned anyone sabotaging his work. I poked her in the shin to remind her, but I must have hit a bruise because she yelped loudly.

Following her gaze, Zoe frowned in my direction (I hastily tucked my skirts more tightly around my legs and huddled back further under the desk) but chose not to acknowledge my presence. "There will be journals and records at House Bonisagus. Come, Ynez — there is a time for everything, as it says in Ecclesiastes. A time to grieve, and a time to track down the truth before the trail goes cold."

"But I can never return to the Acropolis," Ynez said in a trembling voice. "I have been banned forever. They even branded me with the Mark of Cain."

Zoe was slightly taken aback, but she recovered quickly and edged just a little closer to Ynez. "If Leona knew about the sabotage, she'd want to deal with it."

"Perhaps she'll listen to you since _you_ haven't murdered any Bonisagi."

A noisy exhalation of frustration blew out of Zoe, and her feet retreated briefly to bring over a chair so she could sit down right next to Ynez — at such an angle that she could frown again at me. At the sight of the wound on her face, I cringed away, wondering if I should confess preemptively or wait to see if she mentioned the owl affair. However, not for nothing was Zoe a trained interrogator — she merely stared at me levelly, allowing me the first move. I was right on the verge of apologizing when Timo ran up to her and pawed eagerly at her skirts, wagging his tail until it might fall off and distracting both of us. Seizing the coward's exit, I faked an innocent smile, waved at her a little sheepishly, and crawled out from under the desk, brushing dust bunnies off my skirts and pretending that Secundae regularly crouched under their Primae's desks. Hey — it _could_ happen, right?

Astera would have been ashamed of me.

"Adepta," Zoe greeted me in a frigid voice, switching back to Greek as I perched on the edge of the desk (on Ynez's _other_ side from her). "I am glad that you are of such comfort to your Prima."

I had to avert my eyes.

"Oh, but I don't know what I'd do without her!" Ynez defended me earnestly, staying the fiery embrace of the Inquisition for just a while longer.

With a final glare, Zoe returned her attention to Ynez. "Well, if we are going to do this, Ynez, it's not getting any earlier and we should start as soon as possible."

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled. Had I mistranslated some of the Spanish somewhere?

"I'm going to help Ynez control her wrath, of course."

I blurted out, "Like with Father Emmanuel?"

"No, not like with him. We're just going to put a leash on it, so it's more tractable."

The last time I checked, one did not simply leash bears — especially not angry mother bears with feathery wings and flaming swords — like yappy little lapdogs, but then again, I wasn't the expert here. I threw Ghallim an inquiring look to see what he thought of this idea, but he only observed neutrally, "A friendly word in time of need eez 'elpful." Which could imply either that he wasn't opposed — or that he wanted more time to study Zoe's seraph before he challenged it. Almost immediately he provided evidence of the latter, because when Ynez unthinkingly went to our room to fetch her crucifix and left two godlings alone with an _Inquisitor_ , he ignored Zoe entirely in favor of prowling around the seraph and examining it from all angles.

I, on the other hand, awkwardly avoided her gaze while ushering her to the common room. My hope that she wouldn't mention the owl affair was granted — but she did scold me for the Acropolis debacle. "You should be more helpful to Ynez and prevent these things."

Her words stung me into glaring indignantly at her. Prevent these things! Without any knowledge of Ars Manes? "It's easier said than done," I protested.

"Indeed," she replied, radiating disbelief. "And you," she said, turning her attention to Ghallim, "how have you come by your utter lack of faith?"

"But I 'ave utter faith zat your seraph will be a worthy opponent! I would like nothing better zan to face eet in combat one day," he exclaimed in his most irritatingly obtuse way.

Feigning deafness, Zoe dove into preaching mode and proclaimed loftily, "God's presence is everywhere — "

"Eez eet! Does zat mean I can find ze angels anywhere? Or eez God like my eavesdropping uncle?"

Fortunately for all three of us, my sister returned before her Church sister either died from a heart attack or incinerated Ghallim right then and there. With a final glower, Zoe regally and pointedly inquired if Ynez wanted some privacy for the ritual.

"No, no, no — you have to see this!" Cly poked urgently at the edges of my mind. "Don't let her send you away!" Mentally rubbing my poor brain, I offered to crawl under the coffee table.

"I can make ze table bigger," said Ghallim promptly.

"No, you can't," I argued snippily. "That's Ars Materiae."

"Eet could also be Ars Conjunctionis," he suggested, "to affect space."

"Either way, you can't do it."

After whispering a quiet prayer beseeching the Lord for patience, Zoe very deliberately turned her back on the two of us and addressed only Ynez. "Summon your bear."

"But Soror Zoe, I don't _want_ to get angry."

Incorrigibly, Ghallim poked his head around the side of the seraph. "But zere are so many things to be angry over! Inattentive pupils, ze collapse of ze Aegis, all ze lives ze Plague 'as taken, ze way Astera kept all zose secrets from you, ze way she did not prepare you to become Prima…."

As Ghallim rattled off possible grievances, Ynez pursed her lips grimly. Without a word, she slammed down a ring of circles on the floor and then plopped right in the middle of them, clutching her rosary and glaring into a mirror. Mostly to silence Cly, I perched on the coffee table so I could peer into its depths as well. Too dignified to sit on the floor but too infatuated to sit further away on a sofa, Zoe stood just outside the ring across from Ynez, reading slowly and clearly from a large Bible, "Colossians 3:5. 'Put to death, then, the parts of you that are earthly: immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and the greed that is idolatry.'"

After a moment, colors exploded like fireworks across the surface of the mirror, burning out the images of Ynez's uncle and five siblings, all of them pinched from hunger and coughing so hard they couldn't breath. Shivering violently, her uncle removed his own coat to spread over Ynez as she lay in the bottom of their wagon. Then the scene dissolved into a shower of colorful sparks that blazed anew to burn out a picture of Verrus, his face distorted by lust as he wrapped a possessive arm around Tel's waist and pulled him close. Another flash of light, and Verrus and Tel winked out to make way for Astera, who clasped a notebook to her chest and smiled enigmatically out of the mirror. Flash. Leona stood at the front of the Areopagus, contemptuously pointing at Ynez and demanding her exile. Flash. Irene donned her flame pendant, Hestia cackling triumphantly just behind her. Flash. Symone waved his wand to brand Ynez for all time. Flash. Flash. Flash. The faces of the other Bonisagi blinked in and out of existence, faster and faster, one barely even fading before another replaced it. Ynez was losing control.

Monitoring the images and helping to sustain the ritual, Zoe continued to read, "'Because of these the wrath of God is coming upon the disobedient. By these you too once conducted yourselves, when you lived in that way. But now you must put them all away: anger, fury, malice, slander, and obscene language out of your mouths.'"

Light blazed. As I blinked away afterimages, a vision floated up from the mirror to superimpose itself on reality. Over our battered old coffee table was overlaid a ridiculously ornate conference table covered with diagrams and sketches of the Obscura; I slid off it quickly and backed straight into a Bonisagus who rippled at my touch and reformed back around me. Like a king holding court, Thoren appeared at the head of the table. My breath caught in my throat, and I extended a shaking hand towards him, but of course it passed right through the illusion. Stabbing a finger at the diagrams, Thoren's image callously dismissed any mages who warned that refugees would perish if they couldn't find Athens. "We don't have the resources to deal with all that riffraff," he said disdainfully. "We must seal them off. I refuse to tolerate any dissent in my House."

Oh Ynez, if only you'd _known_ him.

The winged bear burst into existence above Ynez's head. With a shout of challenge, Ghallim sprang aside and rolled across the floor, coming up in a crouch right in Thoren's shimmering image, and scanned the room wildly for weapons. Suddenly flames leaped from his left palm, burning out the emblem of Hestia. For one split second he stared at it, and in that instant of distraction, the bear struck both him and the illusion of Thoren. The impact sent Ghallim flying across the room, where he crashed into a bookcase and fell heavily to the floor, broken pieces of wood raining down all over him. Stunned, he lay still for a moment.

Without pause the bear barreled after him, but I hacked an Aegis shape straight into the surface of the coffee table and threw up an Ars Essentiae shield around him. The bear smashed into it full force, nearly shattering it, but I thrust my will into it and it stiffened and held.

Crawling out from under the debris, Ghallim clutched a pendant around his neck with his burning left hand.

Poor Zoe! At the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea she'd only gotten the smallest taste of the havoc our House could wreak! Staring around at us wildly, she stumbled over the next lines: "'Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another — '"

Ynez's caricature of Thoren smiled contemptuously and raised one hand, his palm also blazing with Hestia's symbol, and a bar of Hearth fire blasted at the bear, transforming into Ars Manes shackles around its neck and legs. It threw back its head and roared in mindless rage, straining and wrenching wildly at the chains.

"Quickly!" Zoe yelled at Ynez. "Bind it!"

Snapping into the present, Ynez dragged on the chains with all her might but succeeded only in attracting the bear's attention. It swung its head around from Ghallim and fixed its rabid eyes on her, gathering its muscles for the attack.

There was no time to hack anything into the table. I shrieked something in Enochian — I didn't even know what — and threw up a shell of brilliant white light around Ynez. Blinded by the glare, the bear stumbled and faltered and then roared again, shaking its head furiously.

"Keeper of ze 'Earth!" Ghallim shouted, scrambling to his feet. "Zis eez your chance! Do not waste eet." Hestia's delighted laughter rang through our ears, and the goddess' presence streamed out of his pendant into the bear.

Without even standing up, Ynez yanked the serpent from around her shoulders and flung it bodily at the bear. Her guilt wrapped itself tightly around her wrath and began to constrict without mercy, squeezing the breath out of it. But the bear fought back ferociously, claws tearing deep gashes through the serpent's sides. Scales and blood flew through the air, splattering Ynez in gore and battering her mind.

Panicking, Zoe read faster and faster in a desperate effort to shackle the bear, "'As the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection.'"

She botched.

A large black swan appeared midair, hovering right before her face, and smiled at her with perfect indifference. Zoe stumbled back, tears filling her eyes.

"I _told_ you these things are hard to control!" I yelled at her, still straining to hold up my Ars Vis shield around Ynez.

Forcing both front legs between the serpent's coils, the bear reared up on its hind legs, pierced the serpent's body with its claws, and violently jerked its paws apart. The snake _ripped_ in half with a horrible tearing sound, its guts oozing ichor out of the Umbra into reality and coating the floor with black slime. The bear shook itself ferociously to fling off the carcass.

Ynez screamed and fainted.

Dropping the Bible and sobbing, Zoe scrambled over to her and frantically patted her cheeks and tried to revive her. "Ynez! Ynez! Wake up!" she pleaded.

At the same time, I shrieked more Enochian, the runes seeming to tear themselves out of my mind, and smote the bear square in the chest with a beam of radiant energy. It roared again and dropped to all fours, turning enraged eyes on me. In Hestia's voice, it said viciously, "You're fortunate that you're my aunt's daughter, else it would be far easier to slay you." Then it raised a massive paw, smacked me in the chest, and sent me flying back over the sofa and into a wall. Everything went black.

* * *

When I woke, I found myself lying on the floor of the classroom beside an unconscious Ynez. Ghallim was bending over me, waving a foul-smelling vial under my nose.

"What — what happened?" I asked groggily.

"Ze bear 'it you," he explained. "Ze Inquisitor and I carried you 'ere, zen she and 'er seraph chased ze bear into ze corridor."

"I — it said something. About my being its aunt's daughter? Did you hear that too?"

"Well, zat eez certainly an awkward family reunion," he said cheerfully, moving on to heal Ynez.

As she stirred and blinked, he added over his shoulder, "In case you are wondering, I 'ealed you first because you are less likely to try to kill me."

I didn't even have time to respond before a wave of Ars Vis, like a deep inhalation, flooded through the leylines into the Hearth.

"What happened?" demanded Ynez, dragging herself to her feet with the aid of a desk.

"Ze bear went off and Zoe followed," Ghallim updated her, pointing in the direction of the hallway. At his gesture, I noticed that the fiery tattoo had been transmuted into a red scar. When I tried to scan it with Ars Vis, he immediately masked it visually, although it still blazed to my magical senses.

Too distressed about her rampaging wrath to question him about why Hestia's symbol was now literally branded into his skin, Ynez said, "We must find Zoe and the bear."

Just then, the classroom door half opened and the top part of her guilt serpent writhed through it, leaving a gruesome trail of ichor across the floor, and wrapped tightly around her neck and chest. In its wake, violet light flared from somewhere far down the hallway — and vanished as if snuffed out.

With one hand firmly on the serpent, Ynez lurched out of the classroom.

"Wait!" I tried futilely to stop her. "We're in no shape to face the bear again — " I scrambled painfully to my feet and staggered after her.

With a sigh of exasperation, Ghallim followed, calling after both of us, "As your doctor, I really cannot recommend zis course of action — "

More violet light flashed — not from the exit to the yard, but from deep within the Hearth.

Ghallim frowned. "Eez ze bear not trying to leave?"

"We'll never get to her in time! Marina! Please, can you speed us up?" Ynez begged.

Trying my hardest to ignore the shooting pains throughout my entire body, I summoned my trusty wind disk, although it took much longer than usual, and we climbed on board. As I wrestled with my Effect to accelerate us, a sense of foreboding rushed up the tunnel like steam from a hot oven. Impatiently, Ynez chanted in Enochian, and Ghallim raised his branded hand to help using — Hestia's powers? Because _that_ would certainly go well. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the wind disk sped up until we were hurtling along the corridor, Astera's wards and runes flashing past in a blur.

Halfway to the Hearthstone chamber, Hestia's cackle rang all around us. The caves glowed red hot, and large cracks shot across the ceiling as if the stone were giving way before a volcanic eruption. Before we could react, the tunnel collapsed in a thundering rumble. When the dust had cleared enough for us to see again, a heap of rubble reaching halfway to the ceiling loomed right in front of us. With no time to brake and no room to maneuver, we crashed straight into it, the wind disk spinning wildly out of the control and showers of rocks raining down on us. A stray chunk hit the back of my head. Just before I lost consciousness (for the second time that night and the _third_ time that day), I felt the wind disk unravel and heard Zoe's scream echo down the cave network.

Yet again, Ghallim's awful-smelling, wake-the-dead concoction summoned me back to reality, coughing and sputtering. Ynez was just scrabbling her way over the top of the rubble, heedlessly shredding her skirts and palms on the sharp rocks. Her love suddenly manifested as a pure white swan that allowed her to see all the way down the tunnel. "The bear is two rooms away from the Hearthstone!" she called back down to us. "Only Zoe stands between them! There's a strong connection between the bear and Hestia. Ghallim! What have you done?"

She disappeared over the top of the pile, and we heard a small landslide and the sound of something hitting the ground hard on the other side.

A frown crossed Ghallim's face. "Eez 'Estia using ze bear to break free?" he demanded. "Zat was not our deal. Our deal was to give 'er eyes so she could see around ze city. Ashton! We need to 'unt!"

What we needed was help. If Zoe, Ynez, Ghallim, and I combined couldn't stop the bear — if it were in the process of unleashing Hestia — then it was well past time to beg the other Houses for assistance. If the cost were the end of House Criamon and the Forgotten Orphanage, then so be it. Rolling onto my side and propping myself up on one elbow, I fished around in my satchel until I found the communications stone Thoren had given me. Hoping against hope that Leona would have its mate, I pressed my palm to it.

Nothing happened.

In desperation I picked it up and squeezed it in both hands, but still it remained cool and dark. Irene's Resonance seeped into my bones, though, and with it the realization that because she had created all the Bonisagi communications stones, her death had severed the Ars Conjunctionis Effect among all of them. Leona might have ordered Symone to create new ones by now, but I didn't have access to them.

I'd have to fetch reinforcements myself then. As I summoned my wind disk yet again, I dithered very briefly over whether to try Leona or Tessa. The Acropolis and the Tower of the Winds were roughly the same distance by air, but while I knew Leona a lot better, she was probably also a lot less inclined to help. Tessa, on the other hand, already knew about Hestia and might be more amenable. The Tower it was then.

A pitifully small wind disk winked weakly into existence about a foot from the ground, and I dragged myself onto it, curling up so I fit and hanging onto its edges. Just as it labored its way out of the Hearth, a low, sad melody from a horn, like a funerary dirge, echoed around me. Briefly, I hesitated, causing the disk to drop precipitously, and wondered if I should return. But there was very little I could do on my own, so instead I stretched myself to fly as fast as I could towards the Tower and Tessa.

* * *

Night had fallen while we were in the Hearth, but the moon shone brightly down on Athens and illuminated the roofs of houses, and I flew over them, barely dodging a few chimneys before I urged my wind disk higher. In the distance, the orange ring of the Aegis flickered feebly, its protection wearing thin as Hestia ground away at it.

Suddenly, a low rumble rose from several points in the city. Just ahead of me, a derelict Classical temple that had been converted into an apartment complex by the poor (mostly refugees who had entered Athens before the Obscura went up) aged a thousand years in a matter of seconds and began to crumble into dust and jagged pieces of masonry. A few streets away, another ancient building collapsed the same way, followed by another and another. Screams pierced the night, too many cut off by the thuds of marble hitting the ground, and a Resonance of unwanted self-sacrifice rose with the dust and threatened to choke me. An owl — the same type of owl as Athena — appeared on the temple portico. It spread its wings to fly away, then mournfully folded them again and closed its yellow eyes right before a column crushed it.

Merciful gods (and yes, I knew that was an oxymoron), had Athena just died? Really truly died this time?

The jolt of sheer terror was enough to jet me the last few streets to the Tower of the Winds, where a crowd of Bjornaer mages had flooded onto the balcony to shout and gesticulate.

"What's going on?" one called wildly from the back, near the staircase.

"Who has that Resonance?" yelled another who was leaning precariously over the ledge. "Warn the Prima! Get the Secundus!"

"The Secundus gave strict orders not to be disturbed!" another snapped.

"What's he doing? Could it possibly be more urgent than _this_?"

"The Secundus is with his protege! Do _you_ want to be the one to interrupt them?"

Murmurs rose from the crowd as mages backed away from their colleague who'd suggested braving Verrus' wrath.

"Oh...well, maybe we should monitor the situation for now. Whatever Effect it was seems to have ended anyway…."

Sailing my wind disk right up to the edge of the balcony, I half jumped, half tumbled into their midst. They stilled abruptly and pulled back en masse. Even through my preoccupation, I noticed that the women were staring daggers at me while the men eyed me contemptuously with the exact same expression that Nitsa had worn.

 _Now is not the time and place to defend yourself_ , Leona had advised me back at the Acropolis. Unfortunately, neither was this. Pretending that nothing was amiss, I asked the crowd at large, "Where's Tessa? I need to talk to her right now."

No one said a single word, so I dashed towards the stairwell, the mages stepping back and jostling one another in their eagerness to avoid me. Their whispers hissed after me. "Reckless Criamoni — " "The root of all our problems — " "The _porna_ who betrayed the Magister Mundi — "

 _Now is not the time and place_ , I reminded myself, gritting my teeth as I ran down the stairs, counting off the floors. _Now is not the time and place_. When could I ever defend myself? And who would even believe me when I did?

Bursting into Tessa's workroom, I found her at the center of controlled chaos, shouting instructions at Adepti and Initiates who ran around with their arms full of boxes.

"Tessa! Tessa! I need to talk to you!" I shouted, pushing my way through the mob.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" she snapped. She shoved a stack of papers at one Initiate and swept a pile of notebooks into a box another held out. "I have _people_ to feed — although after House Criamon gets through with Athens, there will probably be a lot fewer mouths." Dramatically, she pointed out the window at the fallen buildings.

"That wasn't us!" I said indignantly. "We had nothing to do with it! But please — I really need to talk to you in private!"

"About what — all the new disasters you've brought upon us?"

"It's complicated — please, can't we talk in private?"

"Fine! Carry on," she ordered her mages, and stormed across the hall to a private alcove overlooking the Agora. There she turned on me and demanded, "Why did you kill Irene?"

"We didn't mean to!" I gave her a semi-hysterical account that more or less conveyed the gist of the story.

Before I could beg for her help with Hestia, Tessa said fiercely, "Maybe you should just stay home. Everything House Criamon does creates a new catastrophe for the other Houses to deal with, and we do not have time for that right now!"

"We _did_ stay home! It was _Zoe_ who came to us — "

"The _Inquisitor_ came to you? What did House Criamon do to draw the attention of the Spanish Inquisition?" Tessa leaned out the window, as if expecting to see explosions from the Forgotten Orphanage.

"Nothing! She just has a crush on Ynez — "

"Zoe bani Quaesitor has a _what_ on Ynez?"

"A crush! But that's not the point! She wanted to help Ynez control her wrath, so she got Ynez to summon the bear but then it got out of control and somehow it's connected to Hestia now and I think she's trying to escape and we really need your help — "

"No!" Tessa cut me off with a single harsh word. "House Bjornaer already has its hands full dealing with the _first_ disaster House Criamon provoked. I refuse to get dragged into any others. As I told your Prima already, I do not get involved with my siblings. You're on your own with Hestia — who, I might remind you, is a problem entirely due to the actions of your House!"

She did have a point there. I drooped. "What about Leona?" I asked dejectedly. "Can you at least convince her to talk to me? I — I think it's past time to tell her about Hestia and the Hearth."

Tessa raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Are you going behind your Prima's back? May I remind you that the Hermetic hierarchy exists for a _reason_?"

Another Prima _would_ think that. Perhaps the hierarchy existed for a reason — maybe even a good one — but I was positive that it had _not_ been created with fourteen-year-old Primi in mind, particularly not ones who kept losing control of their magic and mauling senior mages from _all_ the Houses by accident. "I just want to talk to Leona. Can't you persuade her to meet with me in private?"

"I am very dubious that I can persuade her to meet with _any_ member of your House in private after what you did to her Secunda!"

"I'm happy to talk to her surrounded by her mages," I said quickly. " _I've_ never attacked anyone!"

Tessa did a quick Ars Fati Effect and frowned at me as if she'd caught me in a lie. Oh — right, Mel and I had attacked Zoe.

"That wasn't _me_!" I insisted. "That was Mel — I mean Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy!"

Still radiating skepticism, Tessa pointed out, "Whether that is true or not, your House _has_ killed two Magistri Mundi."

She thought _we'd_ killed Astera? Our _mother_? What kind of matricidal monsters did she take us for? "We did not!" I shouted furiously. "We would _never_ ever ever hurt Astera! Melpomene killed Thoren and — and Astera isn't really dead anyway. She'll come back!"

Tessa looked at me sharply. "Will she?"

That was when I realized that the nature of Despina Delios' bond with the Primae of House Criamon was _not_ something Tessa knew already. I hastily backpedaled. "It's complicated," I hedged. Ynez and I seemed to be saying that a lot these days. "Anyway, Hestia said that I'm her aunt's daughter — which means that I'm _your_ cousin too. Who are my parents? Don't they mean anything to you? Won't you help your own cousin?"

"I told you — I don't bother to keep track of my family tree. My siblings have had countless trysts with countless mortals. No doubt you're another one of the demigods they've strewn across the length and breadth of Greece. But I will give you a piece of advice, cousin mine: You can either be the predator or the prey. Make up your mind which you are and act accordingly — and you may survive the coming apocalypse."

Who did she think she was — the Pythia at Delphi? If I found myself in dire need of oracular utterances, I already had an orphanage's worth of gods to consult. "If you're my family, at least convince Leona to meet with me."

Sighing loudly and rubbing her temples, she finally acquiesced. "Fine — I'll talk to her. I don't promise anything, because I still think that everyone is better off staying as far away from House Criamon as possible, but I'll talk to her. Are you satisfied now? _Now_ can I get back to work?"

I nodded reluctantly, accepting at last that I would get no assistance from the other Houses, at least not anytime soon. "Oh — one more thing — just so you know, the plan is, um, proceeding."

"That is good to hear, although it won't solve all of our problems," she said, sweeping back towards her workroom. "Go home. Stay there. Try not to destroy anything else. I was serious when I said that my House will leave Athens if necessary." Just before she slammed the door in my face, I heard her start to shout at her subordinates, "Imbeciles! Can't you follow the most basic instructions? I _told_ you to use the — "

That had not gone as hoped. That had not gone as hoped _at all_. Crossing the hallway again, I, too, craned my head out the window, staring in the direction of the orphanage and searching for signs of purple light. As much as I hated Zoe for what she had done to Sy, I had to admit that she _meant_ well and obviously cared about Ynez.

Also, if yet another senior mage died mysteriously in our caves, the other Houses would be wholly justified in imprisoning us, disbanding our House, and taking over the Hearth. Honestly, they couldn't do a worse job at dealing with Hestia. Except then what would happen to the mice?

Preoccupied by my thoughts, I didn't notice the approach of a knot of mages until they'd surrounded the alcove. All of them were in their teens, and their insignia marked them as a few degrees below me — but they outnumbered me and I really didn't want to get into a fight right in the heart of House Bjornaer. Pressing my back to the windowsill, I regarded them nervously, read nothing but malice in their faces, and reached surreptitiously for my pocketknife. Could I could draw it to summon my wind disk without getting attacked?

After some jostling and meaningful glances among themselves, an Initiate called a little tremulously from the back of the group, "No one wants you here, Criamoni!"

Taking courage from his superior, a Practicus ordered in a more confident tone, "Go _home_ , Criamoni!"

Slowly I slid my hand into my pocket and began to inch the knife out, using the folds of my skirts to hide the motions.

A second Practicus taunted, "Oh, poor little Criamoni. Is she trapped? Can't she work a teensy weensy little Effect to get out of here?"

A tall Zelator shoved her way to the front and laughed right in my face, startling me into dropping my knife on the floor with a clatter. "Of course she can't!" she said scornfully, kicking it away from me. The knife skidded a little, just to the edge of the circle of bullies. "Haven't you heard? She was sleeping with the Magister Mundi. That's how she passed all the exams. She _slept_ her way up while we're _working_."

Trying my hardest to pretend I hadn't heard them, I bit my lip and wondered how to proceed. While it was theoretically possible to work magic without a Focus, it was significantly harder and I'd never tried it before. As much as I hated to do it, I knelt slowly at their feet, not taking my eyes off the Zelator, and felt blindly for the handle.

Just as I touched it, a booted foot kicked it away, cracking my fingers, and a new voice hissed, "A knife, Criamoni? Are you planning to kill _us_ now, the way you killed Vanessa, Thoren, Astera, _and_ Irene? Why don't you go kill yourself instead?"

Other voices took up the call. "Yes, go kill yourself." "What are you waiting for?" "There's a window right behind you."

Am I predator or prey? As much as I wanted to be the predator, I felt — and acted — like the prey. I couldn't even blame Mel for this one.

I'd rather negotiate with Hestia, I thought, fireballs and all, than face this mob of petty, spiteful children. Hestia at least attacked as a means to an end. For these bullies, the pain was an end in itself.

The door to Tessa's workroom opened, and a middle-aged Adeptus rushed out with an armful of books. Though he didn't even cast a glance in our direction, my tormentors scattered in all directions, disappearing as quickly as the mice. I snatched my pocketknife, whittled a crude owl, scrambled over the lip of the window, and practically tumbled out of it onto my wind disk. I was _never_ coming back to the Tower of the Winds.

* * *

On the way home, I caught sight of a familiar figure picking his way through the ruins of the ancient temple and plummeted down to earth in relief. After that awful confrontation, I longed for a friendly face and word — even if, knowing Ghallim, it was likely to infuriate me at the same time. Coming to a rocky landing right on top of a mound of rubble, I slid down through the debris and thumped to the ground by what had once been the portico.

At my approach, Ghallim straightened, cradling a small, broken form in his arms. With a gentle hand, he smoothed down its feathers.

"Is that — that isn't — it's not really _Athena_ , is it?" I asked hoarsely.

"No, eet eez not. Zis eez only 'er embodiment."

"What — " I cleared my throat. "What will you do with it?"

"Bury eet with full rites," he replied simply.

Still carrying the dead owl tenderly, he wound his way through the chunks of marble and mortar back out to the street and strode off in the direction of his temple. Not knowing what to say to someone who had once been Athena's last true believer, then renounced his faith and helped her enemy destroy her spirit, and now was about to interr her physical embodiment, I tagged along in silence for several streets.

At last, driven by curiosity, I asked, "What were you doing there? Did you know the temple would collapse?"

"No," he said, still in that uncharacteristically serious manner. "I was following you, but someone eez trying to send a message. Zey 'ave made an enemy of me."

In the shadowy streets, I couldn't decipher his expression, but I was glad that I hadn't mentioned the bullies in the Tower of the Winds. Even if Ghallim weren't officially affiliated with House Criamon, Tessa would still blame any of her mages' "accidents" on us. And I didn't really want any more deaths on my conscience anyway.

* * *

In the dead of night, like the coven of witches Zoe thought we were, Ghallim, Ynez, and I huddled around a fat candle in the common room and finally — mostly — laid our cards on the table. (If Ynez weren't withholding a few secrets still, I'd eat Thoren's diary.) Ghallim had just made a trip to House Bonisagus, and he reported that he had a plan for dealing with the Plague. Since the Bonisagi refused to let him modify the Aegis leylines themselves, he wanted to build a supplementary ring surrounding the Hearth hillside. When it was ready, he'd connect it to the Aegis (without the Bonisagi's permission), use the leylines to suck Plague energy into the ring, and convert it to Hearth-like Quintessence that could replace Hestia as a power source. The problem, of course, was that the Plague was highly corrosive and even the small amount Hestia was drawing in now was consuming the leylines. "Eet eez not a permanent solution," Ghallim shrugged, "but eet will buy us a few months."

Both Ynez and I nodded. "A few months is good," she said. "Anything will help."

His next statement was significantly less helpful — and forced me to reveal at least a part of Astera's plan. Ghallim said, "What I really want eez to redirect ze vengeance of ze Plague onto Thanos to kill 'im. I refuse to believe zat 'e has nothing to do with eet."

Drawing a deep breath, I made my request: "Can you not kill Thanos before he does the loom thing with Hestia? Can he at least start the ritual?" Both of them whipped their heads around to stare at me. "Um, Astera had a plan."

"Astera had a plan?" Ynez cried. "She told _you_ but not me? _Dios mio_ , why didn't she tell me anything?" She buried her face in her hands and said in a muffled voice, "Why did she even make me Prima if she didn't trust me?"

"No!" I hastened to reassure her. "It wasn't that! She did trust you. It was just, well, I can't explain now — but I _promise_ to tell you everything after this."

"Zis must be why I am 'aving such difficulty reconstructing ze notebook Lil burned," Ghallim observed to Ynez. "What eez Astera's plan?"

"I — er, I can't really talk about it much or it will fail."

"But it will solve the problem of the Plague?" Ynez asked eagerly.

Would it? It was _supposed_ to, but Gordon had been really vague about the details. "Um, I think so?"

"You _think_ so?" With good reason, Ghallim and Ynez regarded me with twinned expressions of skepticism. "Zat eez not very convincing."

"Yes! Yes, it will." But my tone belied my words. "It's _Astera's_ plan," I reminded them, hoping that they would trust her judgment if not mine.

" _I_ think we should let Thanos perform his entire ritual and send Hestia into the underworld. But very well — if you are sure of Astera's plan," Ynez approved it reluctantly.

Ghallim, too, gave his word that he would at least wait for Thanos to enter the loom chamber before trying to annihilate him. Then, with a flash of anger, Ghallim snapped, "I find myself wanting to burn everyone who 'as a plan but does not tell me ze entirety of eet," and stormed out of the room.

When I deemed him safely out of earshot, I leaned over to Ynez and asked softly, "Do you still have Athena?"

Without meeting my eyes, she shook her head. Sounding ashamed, she said, "No, I had her in my necklace ever since the, the thing with Ashton...but then the bear killed Zoe — and...and I had to trade her to Thanos."

"You summoned him?" I asked in surprise.

"No! He just showed up himself. He's — he's wanted Athena from the start. He said — Marina, I had to do it! I couldn't let Zoe die!"

"Yes," I agreed softly. "She loves you. And she doesn't seem like a bad person."

"No! She does not love me! We're just sisters! But that's not why I did it! I did it because — because she's the head of the Spanish Inquisition in Athens. What do you think would happen if she _died_? The Church would send someone else — someone who wouldn't be nearly as flexible, and they'd destroy the orphanage!" Sighing and sounding miserable, Ynez finished, "And Athena was okay with saving the city. I think. At least — she said she was. I _think_ she meant it." Once again I remembered the Resonance of unwanted self-sacrifice that had filled the air around the collapsing temple and the dead owl. "But I didn't know what else to do."

I slid down the sofa to put an awkward arm around her shoulders. "Did Astera also talk to you about that ethical dilemma? The one where you're trapped by a mage?"

She nodded, staring fixedly at the candle.

"How did you answer her? I said that I couldn't face myself if I walked out of the trap and left them to die."

"Yes, I said the same thing."

"Well, isn't that kind of like what Athena did today? This is _her_ city. She _loves_ it. She sacrificed herself for it. It was her _choice_ , Ynez. You didn't force her to do it. It was her choice."

"Maybe." Ynez wrapped her arms around herself, unconsciously echoing the embrace of her guilt serpent, but she did seem slightly comforted by my words.

Reaching out, I snagged the candle and brought it right in front of us so we could watch the flickering flame. Its light reminded me of the new Effects I'd cast during the fight against the Hestia-possessed bear. Both had been accessible only with a second rank in Ars Vis — meaning that I had surpassed Thoren's teaching already.

I couldn't decide how I felt about that.

Sitting together, my sister and I watched the play of light until the candle burned itself out.


	19. Wed March 10 to Thurs March 11, 1490

_**Part III: Inferno**_

 **Wednesday March 10 to Thursday March 11, 1490**

All this Secunda-ing was teaching me why Thoren had never had enough time for me. Our nice family breakfast the next day quickly degenerated into yet another interminable House conference. First item on the agenda: Why in the world Ghallim showed up with a mangled white rabbit that Ashton had dragged in overnight. Although Mother Doria sent in perfectly lovely loaves of fresh barley bread, he proceeded to skin and gut the bunny right on the coffee table, adding fresh blood to the stains that Ynez's dismembered guilt serpent had already left. At the sight, I gagged and hid my face in Lily's neck, and Ynez turned green before swallowing hard and offering bravely (and pointedly), "We could have our cook prepare that for you."

Tucking the pelt into his belt, Ghallim shook his head. "No, thank you. Ashton believes zat cooked meat eez a sign of weakness unworthy of a true 'unter." When he hacked off a rabbit leg and ripped off a hunk of flesh with his bare teeth, my head tingled with a sense that the lynx-god had just grown larger and brighter, and that Ghallim himself had gained magical strength. Ah. They had been hunting magical growth then.

One item on the agenda down. Tel provided the second, bouncing in full of smiles and energy — and ignorance. "Good morning!" he greeted us cheerfully, throwing himself onto the sofa between Ynez and me and folding his hands behind his head. "Well, I had a nice night. How about the rest of you?" During the awkward pause that followed, he closed his eyes in resignation. "Wait, no, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Uncertainly, Ynez and I regarded each other. "Well," I said at last, "there are no _net_ new dead people…."

Ghallim objected at once. "Yes, zere are! Just because you do not know zeir names does not make zem unimportant."

Oh, right — the collapsing buildings had crushed many of their inhabitants, and those deaths were also (indirectly) our fault. What good fortune that Tessa had chosen not to Ars Fati _that_ particular assertion of mine!

With some amount of trepidation, Tel said, "Sooooo, I saw a bunch of buildings die. Which makes no sense because how can a _building_ die? But anyway, people were dragging out all these dead bodies. Uh...we didn't do that, did we?"

Ghallim shook his head in (temporary) blissful ignorance. "No, I do not think so."

At his words, Ynez shifted restlessly, twisted her fingers together, and mumbled, "It was a backlash." She slid her eyes very quickly over to me, and in her guilty countenance I read Thanos' reason for taking Athena — to use her as a Paradox sink when he reversed time to save Zoe. And since the health of the city was tied to that of its patron goddess….

"Was eet? _Whose_ backlash?" Ghallim demanded, dropping the rabbit. "What did you _do_ after I went after Marina?"

Before Ynez could answer, Tel interrupted passionately, "This just proves my point! Everything we do only makes things worse! We should just stay here and not do anything!"

Did we get partial credit for staying here to do something drastic?

"Tel," Ynez said, regarding him a little nervously but trying to feign confidence. "We have a plan. We are going to get Thanos — "

"Thanos? He's bad news! We all know he's bad news! Why are we _still_ dealing with him?"

Another very awkward silence as Ynez and Ghallim eyed me sidelong. Did _I_ now bear the entire burden of our _joint_ venture, the way Ynez bore all the responsibility for her and Tel's joint murder?

Heaving a sigh, I said succinctly, "There's a plan that we can't discuss."

"No, there's a plan that _you_ can't discuss," Ynez retorted at once.

"I find myself really wanting to 'unt Marina right now," Ghallim added with equal irritation.

"Gods, why are you so _weird_ , Ghallim?" Tel complained (very aptly, in my opinion). "I don't remember Ashton being so weird before. What _happened_ to you?"

Ghallim actually considered the question for a moment and gave him a serious answer. "Well, I am pragmatic and Ashton eez — uninhibited when eet comes to killing. Eet makes for an interesting interaction."

"Can we get back on topic?" Ynez snapped. "We need to update our Tertius." (Who, coincidentally, was not only the third but also the last member of our entire House. Why _shouldn't_ we give everyone an official title? We might as well appoint Ghallim "Friend of the Criamoni" or something pompous like that.) "Ghallim, tell him your plan for the ring."

With surprisingly few tangents for him, Ghallim obeyed, extracting a small, battered, grubby piece of parchment from his pocket and handing it to Tel. "I 'ave designed a modification to ze Aegis," he explained. "'Ere are ze schematics."

Holding the scrap of parchment up to his nose and squinting at the miniscule writing, Tel whined, "Why is it so small? I can barely read it."

"Because parchment is expensive," I informed him crossly. "Not all of us waste entire notebooks writing 'Clyde is anoying' or drawing stick figures of Hestia."

He ignored me, of course, although Cly nodded vigorously in my head. "We should retrieve that notebook and scrape off the ink so we can reuse it," she reminded me.

"Later, Cly."

Still frowning at the schematics with intense concentration, Tel said slowly, "It says here...that everything is going to explode, doesn't it?"

Ghallim burst out laughing. Ynez dropped her head into her hands. I was left to defend the entire strategy: "It's a perfectly reasonable plan."

"Perfectly reasonable?" Tel snorted. "In what world is any of what we're doing perfectly reasonable? Can we even _trust_ Ghallim and Ashton? They've been acting weird since they got off the loom!"

Speaking of erratic behavior, Ghallim's eyes tracked something just behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a lynx half-earnestly, half-playfully pouncing at Mel, who kept flashing in and out of existence to dodge him. She smiled at him in a manner that conveyed simultaneous approval of all the tragedies Ghallim had caused, and distaste at being hunted by his avatar.

"'Ow about zis, Tel? We can move ze orphanage out of Athens to keep ze mice safe — so I can 'unt zem later, of course."

Yes. Right. Sure.

Finally exerting her Prima's prerogative, Ynez overrode Tel's and my outraged exclamations, called the conference back to order, and reiterated our plan for Tel's benefit. She did compromise to the extent of promising that we'd migrate south as a last resort. "We can take the mice to Alexandria. I've heard that the Plague is less severe there," she concluded. "Oh, and Ghallim — please clean up before you leave."

When I saw Thoren again, I really needed to ask him what _his_ House conferences were like. Surely they involved far fewer rabbit innards?

* * *

As soon as Ghallim had swept the entire bloody mess off the coffee table into a pouch — "Ze guts are very useful when dried" — he hurried into the Hearth to start a ritual that would prevent Thanos from offloading Paradox onto anyone else. I ran after him to observe and learn more Ars Vis (quite a challenge since our paradigms were so different), but made a quick detour first to update Gordon.

I found him in one of the smaller classrooms, which the mice had transformed into a sickroom for the two Sy's. Although it was mid-morning already, man-Sy was still sleeping, the light, fitful sleep of the old, and from time to time he'd mumble something unintelligible. As they had done with Ashton pre-Ghallim, the mice were taking turns sitting by his bedside, holding his hand and talking softly to him. When I tiptoed into the room, a shimmering essence floated over and half-heartedly searched my pockets. Oh, Sy….

"How is he doing?" I whispered to Gordon, jerking my chin at the bed.

He shook his head sadly and whispered back, "Not very well. He's too depressed to want to live."

Dragging my gaze away from the old man's lined, suffering face, I quickly summarized our scheme and asked anxiously if it might interfere with Astera's plan.

"I don't know how involving the Aegis will affect things," Gordon told me in a low voice. God-Sy hovered on my shoulder, listening intently. "Astera focused just on the orphanage. She never meant for Athens to become the center of a stand against the Plague — all she wanted was to keep us all safe. I don't think it should be a problem, though."

"How about the Effect Ghallim is setting up in the loom chamber?"

"Again, I can't be certain, but I don't think it will be an issue."

Gods, it was hard to coordinate when you had to refer to every critical aspect of the plan as a _thing_!

"How — how will we know when to, um, do the thing?" I asked, striving to keep the tremor from my voice.

Noticing it anyway, Gordon smiled reassuringly at me. "It should be soon. You'll be the first to know. Just keep an eye on the — thing — we gave you, and you'll know when it's time." Seeing my worried frown, he added, "Everything will be all right. You'll see."

As if to second that assertion, god-Sy triumphantly held up a quill he'd pickpocketed from me and whooshed off into a corner to hide it.

Shaking my head and feigning exasperation, I tiptoed back out of the room and parted the flames for my trek to the loom chamber, where Ghallim was hard at work setting a trap for Thanos. Cly, naturally, took copious notes on the entire process. "Look! He's drawing inspiration from both a Gaulish god of the hunt and Hellenistic concepts!" she shouted excitedly. "See? He's weaving together the idea of injuring a strong beast, such as a boar or wolf, to weaken it before you face it, and the idea of defeating your opponents by cleverness rather than brute strength!" I didn't really see it, but I nodded along obediently anyway.

At the conclusion of Ghallim's ritual, Paradox _twanged_. All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Was it my imagination, or had the chamber darkened ominously? Just on the edge of my vision lurked a fanged shadow. Heart pounding, I spun — only to come face to face with the smooth gray stone wall. Something fluttered overhead. Dark wings vanished into the recesses of the ceiling when I jerked my head up. Out of the corner of my eye, bright yellow eyes stared unblinkingly at me, but each time I whipped my head around, I caught only the briefest flash of a dark form before it ducked behind me again. Ghallim had sunk into a crouch under the loom, eyes shifting around the chamber uneasily.

"Zis must be my backlash," he said at last, in a wary voice as if he expected an attack at any moment. Uncomfortably, he stood up and rolled out his shoulders. "Eet eez particularly — unsettling, eez eet not?"

That was one way of putting it!

* * *

Away from the prowling shadows and back out in the sunshine of the yard, I relaxed at last, especially when Tel reported that Ynez had gone to the Bouleuterion to speak to Avaris. Her absence provided the perfect opening to slip away to the Acropolis. With any luck, Tessa had already delivered a message of my good intentions to Leona, but if not, Tel could charm the Bonisagi into not fireballing us on sight.

Glancing over at Ghallim, who had begun to survey the ground around the Hearth hillside for his storage ring, I tugged Tel behind the old library for privacy. "I need you to come to the Acropolis with me," I said softly, even though Ghallim, with his penchant for honesty, would probably have approved of my mission.

Tel's eyebrows shot up. "The Acropolis?" he asked, taken by surprise. "Why are we going back there? Don't they hate us? In fact, didn't they _ban_ us permanently?"

Pursing my lips, I tilted my head from side to side, trying to convey that while he was right, extenuating circumstances might justify a temporary truce between our Houses. "Yes, but I think it's past time that we told Leona _something_ about the Hearth."  
If I'd worried that Tel would object to revealing one of House Criamon's deepest mysteries, I needn't have bothered. "So we're _finally_ going to tell Leona about Hestia and how she's been trapped here for four hundred years and wants to break free and destroy the city in revenge, and how Thanos _says_ he's going to help us send her to the underworld but we're not sure we can trust him?" he asked without even pausing for breath.

"Ummm," I hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if we should tell her _everything_."

"I think we should," Tel said firmly. "Keeping secrets from everyone only causes more problems."

He did have a good point there. If Thoren had known about Hestia from the start, he would never have pressed to see the Hearthstone — because he would have known that whatever plans he had for shoring up the Aegis wouldn't work. So he would never have invaded the Hearth, never have died along with the core of House Bonisagus, and never have deprived Athens of Ars Vis mages when we needed them most.

"Yes, let's do that," I assented. "Leona can track down Hestia's followers and stop them from sabotaging the Aegis more."

However, when I returned to my room to grab my satchel, I discovered an ancient papyrus scroll inside it that _I_ certainly hadn't put there. Paradox at work again? A quick Ars Vis scan revealed no traps, so I picked it up with my fingertips and unrolled it gingerly. Despite my best efforts, it disintegrated almost immediately, but not before I glimpsed the message, written in slashing black letters: "That which was true has become false, for in observing Fate we shift it." A powerful certainty rose in me that this was connected to my most recent Ars Fati Effect. What had it been?

When I remembered, I snatched up my satchel and tore out of the dormitory. "Tel! Tel!" I shouted, grabbing his arm and shaking it for emphasis. "We can't trust Leona! She's sided with Hestia! She's sabotaging the Aegis!"

Looking bewildered by my sudden change of heart, Tel extracted his arm from my grip, shook it out somewhat reproachfully, and came to the entirely reasonable conclusion that ignorance was far more conducive to bliss. "Okay, whatever," was his only response.

With an equally reproachful expression, Ghallim called over at us, "I could use some 'elp 'ere! Eet eez a complicated ritual and I cannot do eet all myself!" He'd finished surveying the hill, staked a large olive branch right in its center, and tied a long piece of rope to it. Under Gordon's supervision, Jamie was pulling the rope around the Hearth and etching a perfect circle into the dirt with a pointy rock.

For Tel's and my benefit, Ghallim rattled off a rough description of the ritual. Lacking knowledge of Ars Materiae and even the time and resources to obtain metal pipes, he planned to contain the Plague energy using a sort of magical force field. With inappropriate enthusiasm, he exclaimed, "We will set a trap for ze Plague! We will lure eet into ze city using all ze living creatures as bait!"

"Uh…," I said, thinking that that wasn't my paradigm — not even close. How was I supposed to assist him? It would be akin to Mother Doria handing me a spoon to chop onions with — it just wouldn't end well.

Mistaking the source of my hesitation, Ghallim hastily reassured me, "We will not _actually_ feed anyone to eet, of course! We will only make eet _believe_ zat zere eez food 'ere!" He paused. "Which zere eez, of course — but we will not let ze Plague 'ave eet!"

That was good to know — but still didn't help me. Nothing Thoren had taught me of Ars Vis had involved hunting and trapping. How would _he_ do it? I wondered. Wave his wand around? Then I remembered watching him and the Bonisagi create the leylines three years ago. They had begun from the Hearth and worked their way out to the city wall, and when I wasn't in class or helping Astera run the orphanage, I'd done homework out in the yard so I could monitor their progress. Thoren had used his staff to carve runes straight into the stone of the outer caves, wielding Artes Vis, Essentiae, and Materiae all at the same time to open the ground, materialize leylines, and pour concrete. The other Bonisagi had helped, but my eyes had been drawn again and again to the power that poured through his staff.

There was no way we could match him. We didn't even have enough spare energy to hide the storage ring underground. Instead, it was going to sit right in the yard, encircling the Hearth like a choker necklace and proudly proclaiming its presence to all of House Bonisagus' scrying Effects.

Still, the memory offered inspiration for how to implement Ghallim's design in my (and Thoren's) paradigm: I could inscribe thousands upon thousands of overlapping, interlocking Enochian runes — almost like chainmail — first on the ground to create a Plague-tight foundation, and then in the air to form pipes. Perfect precision was absolutely necessary to avoid weak spots where pressure from circulating energy could accumulate and burst the ring.

Digging out a quill, I started to scratch runes into the hard, packed dirt along the circle Jamie had traced, calling upon Artes Vis and Essentiae to solidify them. Ever so slowly, a section of metallic tubing shimmered into existence, glittering with energy.

Tel tossed a handful of pebbles at my pipe, and they bounced off the slick surface with little pattering sounds. My Effect was holding — although I'd have tested it a different way. "Should I be doing something?" he asked,

Hello, Twin Soul. "You can use Ars Vis if you're next to me, right?" I reminded him. On the ground at his feet, I sketched the set of runes I was using. "Give it a try."

Trotting into the olive grove, he broke off a slender branch and held it like a broom to sweep out the runes — and promptly melted the pipe I'd just constructed.

"Tel! What are you doing?" I rushed over to check his work. "No no no! That's not the right rune! You have an extra line there, see?"

"But that's how you showed it to me," he protested, pointing at my example. Indeed, a twig had fallen across it when I wasn't looking.

"Aargh." I tossed it aside. "Don't include the twig, Tel!"

After we established that he should ignore any stray twigs, blades of grass, pebbles, and gravel, the work continued much more smoothly.

* * *

In the early evening, Ynez at last returned from her visit to Avaris, winced at how obvious our preparations were, and swept the perimeter to make sure no one was spying on us. Such was her reputation that she scared everyone away from the vicinity of the orphanage. In the city, terrified whispers were circulating about how a fearsome Adepta Maior of House Bjornaer had come here, confronted us, and died; how the Magister Mundi had invaded the Hearth with practically his entire House, caught us by surprise, and _still_ died; how we'd then gone to the very heart of House Bonisagus and murdered their Secunda right in the middle of all her mages; and how only yesterday the head of the Spanish Inquisition herself had visited for unknown purposes and left woefully diminished. Not even the beggars wanted to get anywhere near us now. We were well and truly the Un-Forgotten Orphanage.

"I sense Symone's piercing Resonance," Ynez warned after completing her sweep and finding no human being within a few blocks. "He has an Artes Conjunctionis and Temporis Effect up to scry on the Aegis and catch any saboteurs."

While it was, er, encouraging that House Bonisagus had taken our accusations seriously, its timing left so much to be desired. "We're not _sabotaging_ it precisely," I said doubtfully, but not even I believed myself. For good reason, (most of) the Bonisagi wouldn't appreciate a modification meant to shut down the Aegis and suck Plague into the city.

Ynez rolled her eyes expressively. "You're welcome to try telling Symone that," she retorted. "Good luck."

" _I'll_ talk to 'im," Ghallim swiftly interjected. Before the Bonisagi could panic, he reversed the Effect and conveyed that we were only improving the Aegis — which from a certain contorted point of view was even true. "Zat should take care of zat."

Although Ynez couldn't aid our little construction crew, she hovered in the yard and monitored our progress anxiously, scrutinizing the pipes by candlelight and serving as quality control inspector. After a couple hours, she attached herself to me like a shadow, running her hands over each section I created. Irritable from exhaustion and unhealed injuries, I was on the verge of informing her that I was perfectly capable of making pipes that didn't leak, when she mumbled in a small, sad voice, "Everyone who sees me runs away."

My anger evaporated. "Oh, Ynez."

Forcing a smile, she joked a little bitterly, "I've actually increased Avaris' stature because now people are awed that he can 'control' me." The smile wavered and vanished, and her lips quivered a little.

"Oh, Ynez," I said again. Striving for something that might comfort her, I reminded her, "If people respect him even more than before, that's not necessarily a bad thing for any of us." Remembering the bullies in the Tower of the Winds and trying to drown out their vitriol, I added with conviction that I wished I felt, "Anyway, the _truth_ is what matters, not what other people think."

"Mmm, about that." Ynez squirmed a little and tapped compulsively on a pipe. "I told him about the cult and the sabotage of the Aegis."

"Did you tell him that we have Hestia?" I asked, wondering just how far Buddhist mercy extended.

"No, not specifically. I just wanted to give him a heads up in case...things don't go quite as planned." Which, if the last week and a half were any indication, was almost guaranteed.

"That's a good idea," I praised her, then raised another section of the ring.

Ynez rapped on its sides too and nodded absently. "He wasn't surprised at all. He says that traitors are disturbing, but not surprising in a city this size. He also told me that we're not on our own — there are actions he can take to defend Athens. I — I think they're all dangerous and involve self-sacrifice though."

"It won't come to that," I said, trying my hardest to convince both of us. "Avaris will be fine." After all, we were following Astera's plan. Our mother could see the future. She'd guide us to safety. I had to believe in her, if not in myself.

Lowering her voice so the mice couldn't overhear, she confided, "I also asked him, if Astera were doing something and I'm not sure it's _right_ , what should I do? Should I continue it because presumably she knew better?"

"You're _really_ thinking of stopping the transfer of the gods?" I squeaked. We'd already lost Astera, almost lost Ashton, were in the process of losing Sy, and were going to lose Lil — and she still wanted to obliterate our remaining family?

At my expression, she bit her lip but persevered, "Yes. It just seems _wrong_. You feel it too, don't you?"

Did I? The night we transferred Ashton, I'd argued passionately with Astera that young children could not and should not be entrusted with life-shattering decisions. But — but how could I bear to lose _all_ of my godling siblings?

Ynez's next words reassured me somewhat. "Avaris advised me to study it further before I decide. Oh! He also said that Astera acted like someone who had achieved what she wanted, and that we might receive help from her still." She looked up at me hopefully. "Do _you_ think so, Marina?"

Faking a smile for my little sister, I said firmly, "Yes. We will. We _are_. We're following _her_ plan right now, aren't we?"

"Yes. That's true," she said, looking slightly less troubled.

In companionable silence, we worked on the ring until late into the night, when Ghallim deemed that we had done enough for one day and, more relevantly, were making too many mistakes from sheer exhaustion. Laying aside my quill, I tumbled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Ynez's persistent prodding woke me. "Marina! Marina!" She shook my shoulder through my blanket. "Do you feel that?" Although the city's clocks were chiming 7:00 already, our room was still shadowy and dark, and from the eaves came an insistent dripping that pierced me with foreboding.

In a flash I was upright and dressed. Gordon had said that I'd know when the time came, and he was right. I could see it in the way my breath fogged in the frigid air; I could feel it in the stormy gray half-light; I could hear it in the splatter of the rain. Today was the day. Just to confirm my instincts, I peeked into my satchel at the pomegranate half and was blasted by a wave of anticipation. _Today_ , buzzed the glowing red seeds. _Today today today._

"The storage ring," Ynez said suddenly, grabbing my arm. "How far are you from finishing? _Can_ you finish on time?"

Could we? I thought so — but, honestly, did we even have a choice? " _Yes_ ," I told her. Come Tartarus and high water, we _would_ spring Astera's trap today.

Outside, Ghallim was already hard at work on his half of the ring, hunting time with Ashton to complete the ritual, while Tel vaulted back and forth across the pipes to check their structural integrity. As I continued to build the other half, the bitterly cold rain froze my fingers and ran down my face like tears, and overhead the sky itself resonated with echoes of doom.

A particularly ferocious gust of wind battered us with the odd sound of chanting, and we looked up simultaneously, frowning at one another in confusion. A few streets away (a safe distance from Ynez), a strange procession slowly wound its way down a main thoroughfare, collecting followers as it went. It was much more solemn than the religious parades I was accustomed to, but not as mournful as a funerary cortege, and it certainly wasn't associated with any deities that I recognized.

"Shall we find out what eez going on?" Ghallim proposed. "We are making good progress on ze ring, and a few minutes more or less will make no difference now."

Reaching into my satchel, I brushed the pomegranate half tentatively with my fingertips, but it didn't seem to object, so I nodded and flexed my stiff fingers. "Might as well. I could use a break anyway."

By the time we intercepted the procession, it had already swelled to thirty-odd people — a bizarre collection of old and young, rich and poor, Athenian and foreigner. Burdened with satchels and travel bags, they trudged through the rain with an air of grim resolve. However, when Ynez approached, nervous whispers broke out and the people nearest us actually shied away, bumping into their neighbors and bring the proceedings to a halt. Hurt, she pulled up her hood and retreated into the shelter of a nearby building.

Leading the procession was a middle-aged man wearing — of all things — sandals and a Roman toga bordered in purple, who strode along as if entirely unconcerned by the needle-like rain. When he saw us, he flung wide his arms and proclaimed dramatically (pitching his voice to carry all the way up and down the street for the benefit of passersby), "There is doom in the air! The end is today! Join us, for I have foreseen the destruction of Athens!"

Tel snorted in disbelief, and Ghallim regarded the man skeptically. "Eez zat so?" he inquired.

Still in ringing tones that brought heads to windows, the Roman announced, "We are leaving the city, for there is no averting its demise! Join us and save yourselves!"

A few heads popped back into their houses and reappeared at their doors — more Athenians bundled up and ready for travel.

"Eet sounds like you are leading a cult," Ghallim observed, not entirely disapprovingly. "I do not believe zat Athens will fall — " honesty prompted him to qualify the statement — "today. But eef zis eez what you truly believe, zen go. I bless you in Athena's name."

Motioning for his followers to continue without him, the Roman stepped to the side of the road and looked Ghallim up and down. "A priest of Athena!" he exclaimed, sweeping out his arms like a stage actor. "It is not often that I meet one! Her following has diminished greatly over the centuries, and her religion is but a shadow of its former glory."

"Well," admitted Ghallim a little uncomfortably, "I 'ave perhaps fallen from ze true faith, but nevertheless I would like 'er following to last. Eet eez ze nature of a cult," he added with just a hint of bitterness, "to wish to survive as long as possible, eez eet not?"

"That is not true," the cult leader replied definitively. "Like all things, each religion has its time."

"I would _like_ to believe zat you are right," Ghallim said thoughtfully. "Otherwise, I 'ave a lot to atone for."

Bored by their conversation, Tel flashed a smile at one of the passing cultists, a father bent double under the weight of his travel bags who was leading a small child. The man stopped dead in his tracks, gaped at Tel, and straightened immediately. He even dropped the child's hand.

"What's going on?" Tel inquired curiously, cocking his head at the man's bundles and walking stick. "Why are all of you leaving? Do you _actually_ believe this guy?"

"Oh yes!" the man said, taking a step closer to Tel and nodding vigorously. "Oh yes! All the signs and portents came together today, just as Clodius said they would!"

With a skeptical twist of the mouth, Tel dismissed him, and the man walked on in a daze, forgetting his child entirely and casting wistful glances back at Tel. The child pattered after him, calling piteously, "Daddy! Daddy! Wait for me!"

Not even noticing his effect on the father, Tel asked me, "Do _you_ believe this Clodius?"

Ars Vis scans had become almost as natural to me as Ars Essentiae shields and wind disks. With one finger, I sketched the appropriate runes on my skirt — but all I saw were my own abilities. It was as if Clodius had intercepted and then reflected the Effect back at me. Picking up my magic and perplexity, Ghallim scanned the cult leader too, and frowned as Clodius deftly sidestepped _his_ Effect as well.

The tail end of the procession was passing us now, the stragglers stumbling and tripping over their own feet as they craned their necks to ogle Tel for as long as they could. "Well," Clodius said, looking after his flock, "it is time for me to go. I suspect I will see you again, priest of Athena, and until then, I wish you luck."

"And you," replied Ghallim, sketching out a ritual benediction.

As soon as the procession had rounded a corner and vanished, Ynez sloshed through muddy puddles to us, demanding what we had learned. "'E was inscrutable," Ghallim told her. "I scanned 'im and only received ze sense zat Pan eez amused."

"Pan?" I asked in alarm. "That's — that's not very comforting." The god was connected with _nature_ , the very antithesis of a city. The only possible source of amusement for him that I could imagine was that Athens was fated to return to woodlands and meadows shortly.

"No, probably not," Ghallim said, sounding entirely unconcerned. "Ze gods very rarely are comforting. Marina, we still need to finish ze ring, and zen I would like to strengthen eet. I can improve eet as eet runs, but we need to ensure zat eet can withstand the strain of starting up. Can you 'elp?"

And so we spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in the driving rain. As we hurried from section to section, inspecting the joins between pipes and patching weak spots, the sky darkened ominously. Far to the west of Athens, the stormclouds changed colors from dark blue to black, and then from black to blood red, and the rumble of thunder shook the very buildings. Inexorably the red clouds swept towards the city, electrifying the air before them.

The pomegranate half seemed to bask in the terrifying weather. Throughout the day, it absorbed stray power from the ritual and sucked it up from the very air, and by early evening, it was pounding away like a heart in my satchel. Slipping into the Hearth during a brief break, I found Gordon patrolling near Sy's room and nodded gravely at him.

Just before supper, the red clouds at last reached the city wall, and a fiery bolt of crimson lightning pierced the air to strike the Aegis. Its entire western side blazed up, each Aegis stone bursting into a bonfire of Quintessence, and uncontrolled power surged through the city towards us, crackling and arcing and electrocuting every creature within a block of the leylines. Each gust of wind brought fresh screams.

"Quickly!" shouted Ghallim, pointing at the last section of the ring. "We 'ave to finish before ze surge 'its us!"

Throwing ourselves upon the very last join, we hurled our power at it, Ghallim shouting an incoherent warcry, me scrawling runes across the pipe as fast as my frozen fingers could move.

"Hurry hurry hurry!" Ynez shrieked. "It's five streets away!"

"For Athens!" Ghallim howled.

I stabbed the last dot into the last rune and _shoved_ my will into it.

"Hurry! It's reached the temple of Athena!" Tel shouted, leaping over leylines towards us.

The storage ring blazed up with blindingly white light, circling the Hearth like a shield against Plague and evil.

Arcing right over the ring, the scarlet flood roared into the Hearth, and the winds themselves screamed out Hestia's triumphant cry. Bolts of red lightning speared out from the leylines, catching Tel as he dashed for shelter. For one split second, he froze midair, suspended in a crackling shell of crimson energy.

Then the burning cold rain doused the lightning, and he fell heavily to the ground, groaning loudly. Ynez reached him even before Ghallim.

To the northwest of the city, a massive cypress tree sprouted by the ruined Aegis and shot up into the heavens, and all the leylines flared in challenge. In their eerie red light, Thanos strode out from Ghallim's olive grove, taller and more imposing than I'd ever seen him, as if he'd finally dropped his mortal seeming and revealed his true god self. All around him, the world darkened and echoed with the grief of the underworld. His presence very nearly drove me to my knees, but I braced myself against the ring and fought back the compulsion to kneel, and I met his gaze as he swept towards the Hearth.

Led by Gus, the dogs ran out to greet him. When they reached him, they morphed into fierce creatures out of nightmare, and on the hillside they cast a single three-headed shadow.

"Criamoni, it must be now!" Hades boomed. "Have you destroyed the Aegis yet?"

Standing and giving Tel a hand up, Ghallim gestured at the glowing white ring. "When we start eet, zis will temporarily stop ze Aegis," he explained.

Giving it a cursory examination, Hades praised us, "I am impressed. You have all done well in Astera's absence. But do not become over-confident. My sister _will_ fight me. _Never_ underestimate her."

"We met a cult leader who said the city is doomed," Tel called over the whistling wind.

If I had hoped for reassurance from the lord of the dead, I should have known better. "It is unclear how many structures will survive," he said off-handedly.

"I already warned Avaris that we have a desperate plan," Ynez told him. "He has ways to fight too. He will defend the city."

Hades nodded curtly, an acknowledgement of Avaris' abilities. "The Fates are with us, as much as they can ever be. We must hurry."

Without exchanging a word, Ghallim and I hurried to the switch, which I had already prepared with the double rune of change. Placing both of our hands on it, we exchanged one last glance — his inscrutable, mine grim — and together we clinked it into place.

Something in the air around the Aegis _twisted_ , and hooks shot out from the ring to pierce all the leylines simultaneously and seal them off from the Hearth. Reversing the power flow throughout the city, the ring began to pump in energy from the Plague outside the city wall. It didn't work too well on the damaged western leylines, though, and the uneven power draw would eventually destabilize the entire system, but it should hold long enough. It would _have_ to hold long enough.

As we ran for the caves, Ghallim caught up to Hades and warned, "My ritual had unexpected consequences. Zere eez now a feeling of being 'unted."

"That's interesting," Hades replied in a distracted sort of way, his attention concentrated on Hestia's malevolent whispers. "My sister is preparing for a fight," he warned. Throughout the Hearth, her fires burned bright and strong in tightly controlled pillars, rather than her usual wild sheets of flame. "Hestia will go for the weakest among you," he cautioned, "for it is always easier to attack the followers than the god."

Although none of us would have considered ourselves _followers_ of Hades, not even Ghallim wasted time arguing. Even as we ran, Ynez and I wrapped her, Tel, and me tightly in Ars Essentiae cocoons, while Ghallim armed himself with an Ars Vis shield.

Deeper and deeper into the Hearth we charged, flying past Astera's — no, Ynez's — office, past the loom chamber, through the room where we had fought the Bonisagi, then through the room where Ynez's bear had murdered Zoe. Down and down and still down we hurtled, passing bonfire after bonfire that stood to attention like an honor guard. The tunnel narrowed and tapered and abruptly ended in a solid barrier of flames, and I knew without a doubt that the caves went no deeper. We had arrived at the Hearthstone chamber itself.

As we slowed, panting, Hestia withdrew all of the flames, revealing an ancient door sculpted from stone melded with Quintessence, and stamped all over with binding, restraining Effects that had remained unbreached for four hundred years. Over the centuries, the stone had worn thinner and thinner towards translucency, until it glowed with the dancing light of the inferno it barely held back. As Hestia had admonished us, Despina's bonds had not been made to last for eternity.

Lifting his horn to his lips, Hades blew a single short blast. Instantly, each of us inhaled deeply as if we'd never been out of breath, and all of our reflexes sharpened beyond human capacity. Stepping aside, he motioned to Ynez. "Prima," he said courteously, "the unsealing rests upon you."

Tel and I squeezed to the sides of the narrow tunnel, and Ynez slipped between the two of us to approach the door. Lighting a long thin white candle from one of Hestia's remaining honor guard fires, she raised it to the stone. As its light fell upon the door, a rune in the dead center blazed to life — a spiral design, the same one that warded and hid the Forgotten Orphanage, and that was the keystone of the entire architecture binding Hestia to the Hearthstone.

Drawing a deep breath, Ynez pressed her palm flat on the spiral and _pushed_ with her magic. Something shattered and fell away, and the door slowly swung outward.


	20. Evening of Thursday March 11, 1490

Evening of Thursday March 11, 1490

The incandescent heat that blasted through the doorway nearly knocked us off our feet, and Ynez gave a little yelp as it seared her cheeks. Then the impact faded and I opened my eyes to an inferno. What little I could see of the cavern walls through the raging flames glowed white hot and dripped with molten stone like candle wax. In the middle of the conflagration stood a tall, proud woman bearing a longsword made of bone. Her bone, in fact — eons ago, driven mad by her fetters, she had wrenched off (and then regrown) her own arm and forged the bone into a weapon to hold sanity at bay. Mad fires blazed fiercely in her eyes as she stared contemptuously at us, and for all that she had tapped into the core of her power for centuries to survive, she still projected the same majesty that Hades did.

Not the fire elemental of my nightmare but _she_ embodied all that was great and terrible about Ars Essentiae.

Two twangs, so close together they might have been one, rent the air, and two arrows, one right after another, thudded into Hestia's chest. Almost dismissively, she brushed at them with her free hand, and they crumbled into glowing ashes that blew away at once.

Her flaming aura did shade almost imperceptibly from white hot towards a cooler yellow, though, and the flames wavered for a moment, splitting just long enough for me to spy the Hearthstone itself behind her. After burning out the caves during Despina Delios' time, it had settled down here, in this deepest cavern, as a molten lump that pulsed eerily like a heart and radiated waves of Quintessence to fan and fuel the inferno.

Drawing my pocketknife, I whittled a bucket and attacked the Hearthstone itself, straining against Hestia to contain her inner fire. I might as well have poured a bucket of water down Vesuvius. While it was erupting. My feeble Effect evaporated almost before it brushed the stone.

In response, Hestia threw back her head and roared with laughter, spewing fire from her throat. "Fools!" the inferno howled along with her. "I draw my strength from fire itself, and for as long as it burns in the hearths and hearts of men, I shall prevail!"

With one swift lunge, she impaled Gus on her sword.

Snarling furiously, more like wolf than dog, he danced back, scattering drops of bright red blood through the air but taking the sword with him. Hacking at a piece of wood, I struggled to shatter the blade.

"Dad!" screamed Tel. Dropping an arrow back into his quiver, he ran towards his father and threw himself onto his knees. "Mel! Heal him!" he appealed, raising his hands in supplication.

A bandage of bright violet light staunched the flow of blood but left the sword in the dog's side.

"Ghallim!" I cried, twisting my head around and searching for him. However, he had stepped back from the doorway and was focused so intently on a ritual that he didn't even hear me. I didn't dare interrupt him.

Hades blew a dirge on his horn and called upon his own divinity, and the flames about Hestia flickered just a hair lower. The aura around her began to shade towards orange.

"Such arrogance, brother!" she spat scornfully. "Fire is the blood of humanity, and you cannot extinguish it — or me — unless you end this pathetic little world." Even as she spoke, tendrils of fire unfurled from her fingertips to lick at our defenses, seeking the weakest link. "You should never have freed me, for I have always been stronger."

Faster than a firestorm, she punched a fist directly at Tel's head.

Without any deliberate action, Ynez suddenly manifested her love as the beautiful, snow-white swan I had only seen once before, when Zoe died, and it dove in front of Tel, partially deflecting the blow with its wing. Acrid smoke from burning feathers filled the air, and Ynez, the swan, and Tel all screamed with pain.

Drawing another deep breath, Hades blew his horn again, and his music sailed out like so many threads of magical power that fell around Hestia like a net, binding her and dampening her aura still further.

Her only response was to smile disdainfully and inhale deeply, sucking up a surge of power through the leylines — but not into herself. Even before I heard Ghallim's grunt, I could tell that her aim was to charge the storage ring beyond its capacity. While it hadn't exploded yet, it couldn't hold much longer.

"Stop with the villain talk!" Tel shouted suddenly, leaping to his feet with his bow drawn. "I'm sick and tired of it! If you have something to say, say it like a normal person!" His arrow punched into her arm, and the shaft vibrated for just a little longer than it had the last time, before she vaporized it again.

Beside him, Ynez threw power into her swan and reknit its wing, and it hovered protectively over Tel's head.

Ghallim was still lost in his ritual — building and charging a reflective Effect — so I tried again with Ars Essentiae to pull Hestia's sword out of Gus' side. But it stuck fast. "Ynez!" I cried. "Help me!"

Wrapping her hands around the hilt over mine, she braced her feet. "On a count of three," she directed. "One two _three_!"

With a jerk, the sword finally slid free, and Gus collapsed, blood pouring out of the gash and soaking his golden fur. "Ghallim!" Tel bellowed, falling to his knees and pressing both palms to the wound. "Some help here?"

At last Ghallim broke out of his trance and dashed over, yanking a small jar of ointment from his pocket as he ran. Together, he and Tel partially re-formed muscles and sealed skin, and Gus staggered to his feet and shook himself out, but he seemed older than before and his fur shaded towards pale gold — Cerberus in his old age.

Meanwhile, Hades blew his horn again, and cypress-like vines shot out of it to overgrow the path to the loom chamber. More sprang out of the ground around Hestia's feet to wrap themselves around her ankles. In trying to dodge them, she tripped and stumbled, and the vines enveloped her all the way up to her neck, binding her fast.

Still, her grandeur was undiminished as she lifted her head and sneered, "You may have the upper hand now, but we both know that this small victory will only be temporary! For so long as the Hearth of the world burns, so too shall I. Mark my words, brother — I will break free in time, and it will be you who is cast into my fire!"

Without deigning to answer, Hades raised his hand and pointed peremptorily towards the loom chamber, and the vines began to drag Hestia away from the Hearthstone and along the corridor. The rest of us followed, Ynez lingering to ask Tel anxiously, "Are you all right?"

His concern was all for his father. "Yes. I'm just worried about Gus."

Overhearing them, Hestia tipped her head back, caught sight of Ynez dragging along the bone sword in both hands, and laughed uproariously. "A fourteen-year-old girl can't contain me!"

"The entire point of this," Ynez replied primly, "is so I don't have to."

"You've doomed the city by removing its only power source — " she started to jeer. But all at once she went still, and an unnervingly broad smile split her face. "Oh, won't you have a wonderful surprise! I am _so_ looking forward to it!" Chuckling, she commanded, "Brother, take me to my _eternal_ prison!"

A split second later, the air around Hades' cypress shimmered, and an aura of autumn harvest settled around it. Down the corridor strode a smiling Tessa, enveloped and armored by all of Demeter's symbols. An emerald green serpent coiled about her waist flicked its tongue out, tasting the magical currents in the air; a cornucopia under her left arm overflowed with wheat and corn and spilled the harvest across the ground as she walked; and a brightly burning torch held high in her right hand threw long shadows across the cave walls.

Surprise and displeasure in his voice, Hades greeted her. "Sister," he said stiffly. "I was not expecting to see you here."

Serenely, Demeter answered, "Hello again, brother. I see our family so rarely that it seemed like time for a reunion." She turned her smile on Hestia, who cackled gleefully in reply. "I have come to see our sister off." Scanning all of us quickly, she sighed, "Oh Tel. Really? Again?" And, just like Verrus, she quickly healed his injuries until he stood tall and proud, like Hercules or Achilles — and utterly ignored Ynez and me. Once life settled down, I was really going to learn how to use cosmetics. Then maybe Ars Animae mages would actually heal me for a change. (Or maybe I could avoid people who were trying to kill me? A novel thought.)

Grabbing my hand, Ynez pulled me a little away from the others and hissed in my ear, "Is this part of the plan?"

"Sort of? Maybe?" was the best answer I had.

Naturally, Ynez looked displeased — but not as displeased as Hades. Curtly, he inclined his head to Demeter and led the way to the loom chamber. Either out of respect or according to her own plans, she fell back as we approached it, bringing up the rear. Craning my head around, I widened my eyes at her inquiringly, but she only smiled back enigmatically. "Soon," her expression said.

Swiveling her head back and forth between Hades and Demeter, Ynez suddenly asked me, "Are those the mice? Why are they following?"

Hastily I improvised, "They probably want to be around in case anything goes wrong."

At the doors to the loom chamber, Hades paused and looked expectantly at the Prima again. She swung them open, and hopped aside for him to drag his sister through. Abandoning her arrogance, Hestia fought him every step of the way.

As she followed them inside, Ynez stopped dead in the doorway, blocking all of the rest of us. Completely disoriented, she blinked at the sight: Overnight, the mice had disassembled the loom and pushed all the components to the sides of the chamber.

Moving up behind her and trying to squeeze around her, Ghallim said softly in her ear, "Zere seems to be subterfuge involved 'ere. I sense a reason to zis arrangement."

Perhaps trusting that Astera was behind it, Ynez nodded and started walking again.

"Where is the shallowing?" I asked quickly, trying to steer them away from this topic before they alerted Hades.

"It's there." Ynez swept her arm across the center of the room, where the loom had been, and I detected a weakening of reality there, as if the Umbra and its spirit denizens were much closer to the real world than was usual (or safe).

Surveying us, Hades came to the exact opposite conclusion as Hestia and ordered, "Tel. You're the strongest. Hold her while I open the portal."

" _Me_?" Tel asked incredulously, looking around at all of us as if we might be hiding another Tel. "I don't know...I don't want to get burned again — or stabbed." He cast an anxious glance at his parents, who panted up at him encouragingly, their friendliness contrasting very oddly with the pointiness of their teeth.

"Take her." Hades' tone brooked no dissent.

"Umm, okay." Tel's entire demeanor suggested that he thought this was a terrible idea, that he was obeying only under duress, and that he refused to be held responsible when — not if — everything went wrong.

Passing a pair of vines to Tel, Hades stepped right into the shallowing and transformed into something even larger and darker and more intimidating. Staring straight into my eyes, he said, "Let me remind all of you that the gate works _one_ way, and one way only." As impassively as I could, I met his gaze, hoping that he couldn't read my thoughts. "Prima," he commanded. "Lower the barriers."

Darting forward to the edge of the shallowing, Ynez fumbled through her pockets for a few candles, set them out along the border, lit them with a shaking hand, and knelt to pray that the concealing veil be parted.

As her words mingled with the scent of the candles, something about the air _lessened_ , and shadowy figures flickered into existence, slowly solidifying as the Umbra joined to reality. Pointing his staff at the center of the shallowing, Hades chanted in the language of the gods, intoning harsh syllables that rolled off his tongue with the inevitability of an avalanche and nearly flattened my mind. A swathe of air across the middle of the shallowing turned as black as a grave, and Hades hovered in front of it, as if trying to shield the gates to Tartarus from our sight.

As I craned my neck to see past his cloak, Ghallim grabbed my arm. "Ze mice are coming!" he hissed. "Zey are thinking zat eet eez all coming together, zat eet eez out of zeir 'ands now but eez likely to 'appen. Eez zis part of your plan?"

Hastily I bobbed my head and shushed him.

Luckily, Hades was too distracted by both opening the portal and restraining Hestia to notice our exchange. At his command, the blackness slowly split down the middle, drawing back with a rumble, and Tartarus yawned before us like a glittering obsidian map. Bright jewels marked out the shades of the dead — Tantalus wading in a pool of water, reaching longingly for the fruit just above him; Sisyphus heaving his boulder to the top of the hill, grunting with exertion. On the very edge hovered a black pearl that resolved into a spirit as it drifted towards us — Persephone, trailing a silvery thread that led back to Thoren's staff. Although she strained against her tethers to the underworld, she lacked the energy to break free.

In my satchel, the pomegranate pulsed madly, thudding against my skin. As I had known this morning that Astera's plan would all come together today, so now I knew what she needed me to do. Without taking my eyes off Hades, I slid my hand into the satchel and wrapped my fingers around the fruit. To my touch it was hot, almost too hot to touch. _Not yet_ , its heat said to me. _Just a little longer._

The portal kept solidifying into the real world, the blackness materializing as gates made from iron and adamantine, and cold mist oozed out to swirl around our feet. Tartarus itself was rushing at us, and Hades frowned as he fought to fend it off.

Suddenly Ynez's family appeared just beyond the gates, sitting around a fire in their home and telling stories. Smiling directly at her, her mother motioned her to take a chair. Ynez wavered, leaning forward — and the shield that Avaris had set around her mind crushed her with the agony that her uncle had felt as he died. _Suffering counters suffering_ , Avaris' voice whispered, and with suffering he shattered the underworld's temptation.

A jolly old man, the sort of uncle who would go off on wild adventures and pop up unpredictably to tell you inappropriate stories and bring you exotic gifts, leaned casually against the inside of the gate and propped one ankle against the other. "Let us out when you have time," he called cheerfully to Ghallim. "There's no rush, but we will be helpful." Ghallim stared at him for a moment, swallowed hard, and turned away.

Hestia's wild laughter tore through the room. "Can fire itself be restrained by a pathetic mortal?" she demanded. Tearing one arm free of the vines, she drew back her fist and punched Tel in the chest with all her might.

He gasped, all the breath knocked out of him, and fell backwards, still clinging onto the vines.

Ynez's bear exploded out of the air in front of her, landed on the floor on all fours, and snarled fiercely. Entirely unafraid, Hestia only smiled broadly, as if echoing the mice's thought that everything was coming together.

The bear glared ferociously at her — and then barreled into Hades, taking him completely off guard, and savaged him with its flaming sword.

A heartbeat later, the pomegranate flared beneath my fingers. _Now!_ Yanking it out of my satchel and sprinting forward, I cocked my arm and hurled it into Tartarus with all my might, using Ars Essentiae to propel it towards Persephone.

At the same time, Ghallim raised his left palm and channeled all of Hestia's power and all the excess energy she had stored in the ring into a bar of dragonfire that he sprayed at Hades.

A massive shaking filled the air, nearly knocking us off our feet.

Batting away the bear and the flames, Hades ignored Ghallim entirely and lunged forward, straining to catch the pomegranate half. His desperate leap nearly brought him high enough — I stopped breathing — but then it sailed over his head and sped like a comet towards his captive queen. "You lovesick fool!" he roared at me. "You have no idea what you are unleashing!" Calling upon all his reserve strength, he dropped his own defenses and extended his powers to the breaking point to reverse the trajectory of the pomegranate half.

In that moment of weakness, Demeter struck. Pointing an imperious finger at the cypress tree, she warped its branches and sent vines flying at the horn to entangle and wrench it from him.

As he spun around at this fresh attack, fear filled his eyes for the very first time. His aura wavered and then dimmed, just as Hestia's had when he bound her.

From inside the portal, a powerful force was approaching the human world, blowing out more and more icy mist and darkness.

Hades suddenly stiffened with absolute terror and whirled towards the door to the corridor, just as all the mice burst into the chamber. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the pieces of the loom lurched to life. Light poured from the pieces as they floated up into the air. Hades happened to be standing in the dead center of one of the rings, and it lifted him up inexorably as the loom components ground together. Looking like a heroic prince of old, Gordon shouted a single word in an ancient, guttural tongue, and an Ars Temporis Effect sped up all the mice. "Final check!" he yelled at the others, almost too fast for human comprehension. Now a boy, now a golden fox, Jamie dashed to the loom, testing shuttles and adjusting knobs. Helen grew taller until she towered over even Demeter, her face flickering between all the guises of womanhood — child, mother, lover, confidante, queen. God-Sy solidified into a scruffy urchin as he approached the shallowing, and he grinned his impish grin directly at me, and tossed a pocketknife from one hand to the other.

Then Lil stepped forward, glowing with an ancient aura and commanding all of our attention. "I am Despina Delios!" she proclaimed in an authoritative voice that was not hers. "I have learned countless secrets from countless gods, but it is you, Hades, caretaker of the realm of the dead, who holds the final mystery that I have hunted for four hundred years. At long last, I have you in the heart of my power, and it is here that I will lay bare the secrets of your soul!"

Hades thrashed against the ring, struggling desperately to tear his arms free. "Fools! You have no idea what you're doing! You will destroy this world!"

Glancing up at Demeter, I saw a smile play on her lips; she seemed entirely unsurprised by the development. Hestia, on the other hand, looked taken aback for one split second before she rubbed her hands and chuckled in anticipation.

"What happens now?" I asked Demeter anxiously, edging away from the treachery I had set in motion.

"We wait," she announced regally, "for my daughter." Then she bent down and kissed me on the forehead, instantly healing all of the injuries I had accumulated. I breathed in deeply, feeling whole and healthy for the first time in a week and half. "My disciple of the Eleusinian mysteries," she sighed with a satisfied smile.

Behind us, Ynez shrieked suddenly, "No no no! _Everything_ about this is wrong!" Summoning her pride, she manifested it as a gorgeous peacock that screeched raucously and launched itself at Lil.

"Ynez!" I shouted. "No! It's Astera's plan!" Screaming some Enochian runes that I could barely hear over the peacock's screeching, I managed to partially countermagic her.

"But it's wrong!" she cried out again, incoherently. "It's all wrong!"

Lights of all colors blazed from the loom, and the threads of Hades' soul shot out from his skin. On the ceiling formed the nine Spheres we had seen in Ashton's soul — but at the very apex, where no star had shone before, blazed a brilliant new Sphere. Its multi-hued light illuminated all the corners and drove all the shadows from the chamber, and everyone paused to stare up at it in wonder.

"The tenth Sphere," Ynez breathed. "It only appears when a mage is about to Ascend to a higher realm."

Calming down at last, Hades sighed and said, "You have prepared well, Criamoni, but you cannot win this fight, for the path beyond always rests but a single thought away. I only remained here so long as I was needed to ensure that your kind was safe from my family, but I can see now that my time to step beyond has come."

Spreading his arms, he began to drift free of the ring, Ascending towards the blindingly bright sphere — but then time skipped.

Bound fast in the ring once more, Hades sighed and said, "You have prepared well, Criamoni, but you cannot win this fight, for the path beyond always rests but a single thought away. I only remained here so long as I was needed to ensure that your kind was safe from my family, but I can see now that my time to step beyond has come."

It was a time loop that had been prepared long, long ago, a snare centuries in the making. Hades' eyes widened as he realized that he was well and fully trapped, and that this really was the end for him.

"Umm," said Tel. "Does anyone else feel the Paradox in here? I don't think I want to be around when it explodes."

Ghallim's ritual to prevent Hades from redistributing Paradox was working only too well, and it was building up to dangerous levels and entirely focused on him — just as planned.

"Oh God!" Ynez realized all of a sudden. "If Thanos loses his powers, he'll be a Sleeper! Paradox doesn't hit Sleepers! It'll go for the nearest mage!"

All of us took an involuntary step away from him.

Suddenly, in a circle around the loom appeared seven spirits, all staring upward longingly at the tenth Sphere — the seven embodiments that Despina Delios had taken while she pursued her goal.

"Mother?" I whispered, taking a half step towards Astera.

"Mater!" Ynez appealed. "You have to stop it or you'll die!"

All smiling with the same enraptured expression, the seven incarnations of Despina tethered themselves to the tenth Sphere. As one, they intoned, "We are going beyond, child, to where there is no death."

The air rumbled ominously. "I need to check ze ring," Ghallim shouted, and sprinted from the room.

Tel stared around wildly, brow furrowed in consternation. "I have no idea whose side to take anymore," he said to Hestia. "Here." And he shoved the vines in his hands at her. Laughing maniacally, she burned them all away and roared out of the room.

Through all the drama, the portal to Tartarus had remained open under the loom. Now a beautiful young girl danced out of it, singing in a high, pure voice and strewing brightly colored flowers from a basket looped over one arm. With a cry of joy, Demeter ran forward and caught her daughter in a fierce embrace, both of them shedding tears of happiness. When they broke apart at last, Persephone beamed up at her mother and said, "Oh Mother, I have so much to show you. Let us go." Hand in hand, they, too, began to walk out of the chamber, sparing not a single backward glance for any of us.

As she passed me, Persephone dropped a hard glittering object on the floor at my feet. It rolled a little and fetched up against my shoe, and I picked it up, turning it over and over in my hands. It was a shard from the jewel on Thoren's staff.

Stuffing it into my satchel, I ran a few steps towards the departing goddesses. "Wait!" I protested. "Tessa, what do we do now?"

Without turning around, she put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and murmured, as much to Persephone as to me, "Keep those you love close."

And then they were gone.

"Take Tel and get out!" Ynez shouted at me as Paradox from Despina's ritual compounded that already in the room, pressing and compressing us almost unbearably.

"No! I'm not leaving!" I yelled back, fighting to push the Paradox aside. Here was my mother, here was my sister, here was the portal to Tartarus and Hades in his ring and everything else that I had helped the mice bring about. I couldn't leave _now_.

"Paradox will eat us all!" she screamed.

As if in agreement, Paradox flared, squeezing me so tightly that I couldn't breathe for a terrifying moment. "Tel!" I shrieked when I could draw a breath again. I shoved him towards the doorway. "Get out!"

Still in a daze, staring with confused eyes up at the spirits, he waved at his parents and brother, and they vanished out into the corridor.

The seven incarnations of Despina Delios reached the light, but just before they stepped into its brilliance, Astera looked back at us. A small flick of her hand stopped time and bent space, and suddenly she was everywhere at once — a hair's breadth away from the tenth Sphere, yet also just a step away from me and Ynez, and Ghallim outside by his storage ring, and Tel somewhere in the tunnels of the Hearth.

With a voice full of love and regret, Astera said, "I have caused such trouble, my children. It is only now, as I am leaving this realm forever, that I see the full scope of my mistakes. I fear that it is Athens that will pay for them. Much of the disaster you shall soon face ought to be mine to confront. I can only hope that you have what it takes to withstand it."

"Mother — " I croaked. " _Mother_ — " And I wanted to hurl myself into her arms and beg her not to go, but was I not eighteen and a woman grown and the Secunda of her House?

"I never intended for Athens to become the bastion of resistance to the Plague," she continued with perfect sincerity, looking straight into all of our eyes at once. "I _had_ hoped that people would leave the city... Not even a mistress of Ars Temporis can control or even foresee every eventuality — " as poor Hades had just learned — "but I do believe that there are still paths by which the city may be saved. Thanos will not be able to continue his task of protecting humankind from his family, and so that task must fall to you, my children. I will share what knowledge I can, in the hopes that I can lighten this burden."

And then, each of us drew in power with our next breath. I _felt_ the core of my magic grow stronger, and where Ars Vis burned within me, its radiance blazed and in its afterimages I saw the shape of new Effects I could wield — the transfer of Quintessence from any Pattern to any other, the enchantment of life Patterns, and even, in the last extremity, the sacrifice of living beings to fuel my magic. All this Astera gave me in her last timeless moments on earth.

But she was not yet finished.

To Tel she presented the laughing mask of Thalia, Muse of Comedy; the cithara of Erato, Muse of Love Poetry; and the lyre of Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, and along with them the means to invoke Thalia, Erato, Terpsichore, or Mel at will. "To you I give the gift of choice," she said, and brushed his hair back from his face. "Use it well, child."

To Ghallim she delivered a dagger stroke that nearly pierced him through the heart. When he fended off her attack with his spear, she sprouted a broadsword as a third arm and swept it at his neck, forcing him to block and block again, over and over. With each new attack she taught him a new way to fight, the best aid she could impart to a warrior priest. At last she snuck up behind him and threw a bag over his head. After he struggled free, he discovered in it the seeds that we needed to feed the city.

To Ynez she taught the proper way to control her emotions and along with them the bear, serpent, and swan. Then she proffered Hades' spear, with the compassionate words, "There are many who will need to be sent beyond so they can no longer wreak havoc upon this earth. Ghallim will fight them, but it is you who are the wisest of my children, and it is you who will open and shut the portal to Hades. I will warn you that Marina intends to go there to rescue Thoren. She will certainly die without your aid, but the choice of whether you help her is yours." She paused for a heartbeat, then admitted, "Perhaps you were right to try to stop me from Ascending, but the time for that has come and gone."

To me she gave a beautifully illuminated codex, a nod to the love of books that she had instilled in me, and in a daze I opened it to find detailed descriptions of each of the arts of the nine Muses. "I suppose I cannot dissuade you from this task you have set yourself?" she inquired in a tone that suggested she already knew my answer. At my determined shake of the head, she sighed and presented me with a sacred map of the underworld, marked clearly with the path to Thoren. "Always so sure of yourself, my dear. Wait a few months at least, until things have settled down," she advised. "Seek wisdom — and allies." Throwing my arms around her neck at last, I sobbed into her chest as I had not since childhood, and she held me and rocked me and hummed the refrain of a lullaby she had sung so many years ago.

But even timelessness could not last forever. Finally, Astera stepped back from each of us and spoke to all of us together. "There is not much time left," she said. "But ask what questions you have, and I will tell you what I know."

"The children," said Ynez immediately. "Where did they come from?"

"Ah. That is only one of my many regrets. It is only now that I see that the circumstances of their orphaning have been my fault, as my overwhelming need for suitable bondmates to the gods warped reality."

"What about Tel and me? Did you — warp reality — around our parents too?" I asked.

"The two of you were a pleasant surprise, as a matter of fact. My powers did not bring you here. But once you showed up, with the Muses, well — having more Criamoni around could only prove useful." She hesitated, then confessed, "Your request to forget about the loom was part of your deal with the Muses, so they could pretend to themselves that they were human...but I admit that I was glad for it. Your knowing too much about the loom might have complicated things." She gave a rueful shrug. "Perhaps I have not been well suited for motherhood."

Even now, I couldn't agree with her assessment of her parenting. "My biological parents? Who were they?" I persisted, trying desperately to learn everything I could in these last moments. Cly pressed up against the front of my mind, listening as hard as she could.

"Your father was no one of note," Astera said dismissively. "Your mother, of course, was Mnemosyne, the mother of the Muses." Cly and I looked at each other in surprise — we were actually half-sisters?

"What about Tel?" Cly reminded me. "Ask her before she leaves! Otherwise we'll never know!"

"But why didn't _Tel_ have an avatar?" I pressed.

To my surprise, Astera gave a little chuckle. "Isn't it obvious? Who else could his father be but Dionysus?"

"Wait," I protested. "What about Gus?"

Ynez began to turn pink even before Astera smirked and replied, "What _about_ Gus?"

Oh dear. Poor Gus. I could only hope that he never found out. "But how did I meet Tel in the first place? I came to the orphanage when I was _two_. What was I doing out on the farm with him when we were eight?"

Astera only shrugged. "I never claimed to know _all_ the mysteries. You did want so desperately to be a mouse. Perhaps you found and befriended Tel one of the countless times you snuck out after Sy?" Had I? I couldn't remember, and now perhaps I would never know. Not that it truly mattered.

"Why Lil?" Ynez asked urgently. "Mater, why not me, if I were your heir?"

Astera cupped her cheek lightly. "Of all of you, only Lil answered my ethical question correctly. You weren't pragmatic enough, child. You would never have made the choices necessary for a host of Despina Delios."

Ynez nodded her comprehension. "I see," she said softly.

"Ghallim." Astera turned to him. "I should warn you that Hades will be angry, and with good reason."

Ghallim nodded curtly and gripped his spear more tightly.

Staring at each of our faces intently, as if committing our features to memory, Astera said in a rush, "I dare not stay longer. Every moment that I remain here worsens the backlash of the things I have done, and although it is not fair to you, I will not be the one to suffer the consequences of my actions." She gave each of us a tight hug. "Always remember how much I love you. You have made House Criamon proud."

"Mother!" I cried, all feelings of anger and betrayal falling away. _Mother, I love you. Don't leave me_. But the words caught in my throat. She was so close to her dream, the dream towards which she had toiled for seven lives and four hundred years. How could I hold her back? How could I taint her elation with selfish tears? _Oh, Mother…._

The spirit of Despina Delios had already passed into the light and vanished, and the four Primae who succeeded her followed, each pausing on the threshold to cast one last beatific smile upon us. Astera lifted a hand to us like a benediction, her face bright with love and sorrow and triumph and regret, and stepped through as well.

Lil lingered, hovering just below the light, and beckoned solemnly to the mice. "Come, my friends," she said. "It is time."

The godlings held a furious whispered discussion, Gordon, Helen, and the spirit of Sy seemingly desperate to convince Jamie of something, but he bit his lip and shook his head determinedly.

"I will stay," he declared with resolve.

Were the mice going too? Was I losing not only my mother but most of my brothers and sisters all at the same time?

But for the same reason I could not speak to stop Astera, so I could not hinder them from going. And it would save Sy.

"Wait!" I cried as they began to rise into the air, and I held out my arms to them, one last time.

Helen dropped lightly to the floor again, a child once more, and she pattered up to me and squeezed me tightly around the waist. Gordon floated before me and enveloped me in a tight hug, whispering in my ear, "I was a warrior prince, deified long ago by a forgotten people." Sy wrapped his arms around me, slipped his hand into my satchel deliberately so I noticed, and then held up an empty hand with a wink. When I flipped up the flap, I found the missing volumes of _De Historia Artium Magicarum_. Sy flashed a half-regretful, half-respectful smile at Jamie, his best friend for so many centuries, as the three of them lifted into the air and vanished, one by one, into the light.

Holding Jamie in my arms, I watched them go.

Lil went last, turning around with a wistful expression to survey the human life and mortal realm that she had sacrificed to Despina's dream. For a moment I thought she might speak, but she only smiled sadly, entered the light, and was gone.

The tenth Sphere vanished in a silent implosion that rocked the room, sucking with it all the threads of magic that had emanated from Hades' soul. The loom began to collapse, pieces of it crashing down around us, and from one of the rings, Lil's body tumbled to the floor. But she was not yet dead. As Ynez, Jamie, and I crouched around her, her eyelids fluttered weakly and her heart beat thrice more.

Then it stopped.

In the silence that followed, a scream of exultation rent the air and rang throughout the Hearth and the city.

As surely as I knew that I would never see Astera or Lil or Gordon or Sy or Helen ever again, I knew now that Hestia had sworn to keep the orphans warm only for as long as Despina's heart continued to beat, and that it was this heart that had been transferred from Prima to Prima for four centuries. Now the chain had broken at last. Hestia was truly free to wreak vengeance.

* * *

In front of us, the portal to Tartarus still gaped open, threatening to taint the real world with its darkness. With a shuddering sigh and a furtive sniffle, Ynez hefted Hades' spear, discovered it was far too heavy for her to wield one handed, and planted its butt firmly on the ground. Slowly, carefully, she began to close the gates to the underworld.

Watching her in something of a daze, I hugged Jamie tighter and murmured into his hair, "Why did you stay?"

In a small, forlorn voice, he whispered back, "I have a perfect memory and knowledge that you lack. You'll need my help." Twisting a little in my arms, he raised his head to the dark ceiling, searching its depths.

As Astera had warned, Paradox built up to unbearable levels in the loom chamber. Unable to redistribute itself among more targets and mitigate the damage, it all struck Thanos like a lightning bolt from the heavens.

But he was a Sleeper now — no, even less, for he did not even have an avatar left to Awaken — and so the Paradox attacked the nearest mage. Who was Athena, whom he wore on Ynez's necklace about his neck.

A great tremor convulsed Athens, the very earth beneath our feet buckling and heaving, and threw us to the ground, and even in the depths of the caves we could hear the crash of collapsing buildings and the screams of the dying as the city fell around us.

Thanos had opened his eyes at last, but he lay pressed to the cold stone of the floor, tears streaming down his face, entirely mortal, an ugly man in his mid-thirties, who made no motion to rise. "All I ever wanted to do was help," he said in a lost voice. "I could have Ascended millennia ago, but I turned back to help humankind. My family is _dangerous._ They could have ruled you in a heartbeat, but they never did because they knew that _I_ was there to stop them. But they were clever, and they lied to you to obscure the paths so I could not see their intent until too late. And now _she_ walks the earth again."

"Your wife, you mean?" Ynez asked.

"My wife!" He laughed in agony. "My wife? I suppose it is true that we loved each other, a very long time ago."

"But — didn't you kidnap her and imprison her?" I asked in bewilderment. Had I been entirely wrong about everything? Had Astera's plan really had nothing to do with curing the Plague? Had it been all about her and her dream of Ascension, in the end? Had she abandoned us here — alone and facing terrible gods, without our one protector — to fall along with the city?

"The myth is a horrible misinterpretation of the truth." Thanos' laugh turned maniacal, and he tore the necklace from around his neck to shove at Ynez. "Here! Take your city's patron goddess back! Persephone is more dangerous than you can ever imagine, and now I cannot even lift a hand to stop her. We are all doomed."

At his tirade, a fire ignited within Ynez. "No!" she declared fiercely. " _Everyone_ always underestimates House Criamon!" Defiantly, she draped Athena back around her neck, then crouched to pick up Hestia's sword with her left hand. In her right hand, she held the spear of Hades upright, its butt braced against the earth, its tip stabbing heavenward. Struggling against the weight of the sword, she let its tip droop back down, but she straightened her back and faced us all, a small gallant figure resplendent in her pride and courage.

My sister, my friend, my Prima.

"Come on, Marina," she said. "We have to make it right."


	21. Night of Thursday March 11, 1490

**Night of Thursday March 11, 1490**

A low groan from the floor stopped us before Ynez could start lugging her armory out the door. Rolling over onto his side, Thanos said in a defeated voice, "You don't understand. You just don't understand. Aphrodite, Ares, Poseidon — they're all still here. You can't stop them."

Without releasing either the sword or the spear, Ynez knelt beside him. "We don't need to. All we need to do right now is stop Hestia."

"You can't," he said flatly, and although she waited a moment longer for him to elaborate, he only closed his eyes and turned his face away.

Looking at Jamie, who had after all rejected Ascension in order to help us, she asked for his advice. "Oh, I don't know much about what you should do right now. I'm here for what happens _after_ ," he said with infuriating — and familiar — vagueness.

"Okay," Ynez informed him in utter exasperation. "The time for secrets is _past_. Tell us what you know!"

At the same time, I snapped, "All of _this_ — " I swept my arm around the chamber — "happened because none of you would tell me _anything_! You tricked me into thinking that we were fixing the Plague when it was all about Astera Ascending, and now Hestia is loose and Thanos can't do anything to stop her! You got us into this mess — now get us out of it!"

Blinking at us in an injured way, the fox god explained, "But I _don't_ know what to do about the Plague. I just know about the other gods — where they are, how to find them, how to stop them. That's why I stayed." He pouted at us, pushing out his bottom lip and wriggling out of my arms with (barely justified) resentment. "If you don't even appreciate my sacrifice, I should have Ascended with all my friends."

He did have a point, even if he and his friends had precipitated the crisis in the first place and really should have stayed long enough to resolve it. But I could feel the loneliness that filled his eyes and burrowed into his heart, and I said no more.

Ynez blew out a very frustrated sigh but nodded and ordered, "Keep Thanos safe then. You can hide him somewhere, right?"

"Yes, Prima," he said meekly. Crouching beside Thanos, he took the newly orphaned god's hand and began to urge him to take heart.

"Wait!" Ynez said suddenly. "What are you doing to him?" Jamie was using Ars Mentis to hypnotize Thanos and extract all his knowledge — not just his knowledge of the paths to the underworld that Astera had coveted — and Thanos, of course, no longer had any way to resist. "Stop that!"

Jamie protested, "I'm making him a mouse," but he did cut off his Effect. However, he couldn't quite conceal a sly smile that suggested he'd finish it later, when Ynez had her hands full with world-shattering crises.

Drawing herself up straight, and gripping the sword and spear menacingly, Ynez commanded in a low, intense voice, " _I am the Prima of House Criamon and the warden of the spirits, and you are_ not _going to hypnotize Thanos_."

Actually cowering back a little, just as Mel had when Ynez exerted her authority, Jamie bit his lip but nodded obediently this time. He took the still-dazed Thanos by the hand, coaxed him to his feet, and led him away to one of the mice's many boltholes within the Hearth.

"Well," Ynez sighed, her authority draining away and her shoulders slumping back into the poor posture of an exhausted fourteen-year-old, "I guess we should go outside and see what's going on."

Outside the loom chamber, we found Tel — who obviously hadn't obeyed my order to "get out" very well. He was just lifting his hands from Gus' side with a satisfied air, and his father sprang to his feet, shook himself experimentally head to tail, then bounded in a circle like an excited puppy. The wound had healed entirely, and even the blood had vanished without a trace.

"It worked!" Tel announced happily at our approach. "I asked Thalia for help this time, and nothing tragic happened!" His smile faded slightly at our grim expressions. "What's happening _now_?" he asked warily.

"We're going to fix this," Ynez proclaimed with a proud lift of her chin.

"Oh no…." If Tel could have hidden behind his parents, he probably would have. "I'm scared…."

I understood exactly how he felt, and I nodded at him. "Me too. But we have to — so come on."

And so we exited the Hearth, one human, two demigods, and three dogs that remembered being Cerberus.

* * *

As much as Thanos' nightmare had petrified me, it was nothing compared to the inferno that Hestia and Paradox alike had made of Athens while we were in the Hearth. The bitingly cold rain had transformed into sheets of fire that showered from the heavens and set the city ablaze — which you'd think was already bad enough, but Thanos' and Astera's backlashes were also aging all of the buildings at the rate of a year per minute. Throughout the city, ancient monuments were collapsing with thunderous crashes or even dissolving straight into dust that choked the air. Mountains of rubble blocked the streets, flying debris drove back impromptu fire crews and fleeing civilians alike, and heartrending screams echoed to the very heavens, where the scarlet clouds grinned gigantically down.

Not two hundred feet from the orphanage, Hestia — now grown to forty feet tall — gestured imperiously, and a single piece of cloud tore free of the storm to hurtle down like a giant meteor, morphing midflight into a fire elemental that shook the very ground when it landed. Lunging forward, trailing flames and setting olive trees alight, it attacked an equally massive stone Buddha. Avaris had come to save us.

In the shadows of the dueling colossi, Ghallim sprinted frantically back and forth along the ring, fighting to keep it from exploding in a shower of Plague and hardened runes. "Goddess of ze 'Earth!" he called through their bond. "You 'ave 'ad your vengeance! You should indulge in your freedom now!"

Drifting back from the battle and leaving her fire elemental to fight Avaris, Hestia boomed, "You should worry much more about my sister than about me!"

"I am done worrying about your family!" he shouted back passionately. "From now on, I will only worry about protecting mortals and finding my true god, whoever 'e or she may be!"

"That is wise," she cackled, and a column of flame roared from her open mouth that Avaris barely dodged. As he landed, his momentum whipped his body around and wrenched his knee with a loud crack, and thin fissures radiated outward from the joint.

Looking completely confused — which was in perfect tune with his Resonance — Tel channeled Thalia again to suck in all the water from our well and all the remaining moisture from the air, and he grew larger and more translucent as he transformed himself into a water elemental the size of Hestia's champion.

With some amusement, she drank in the sight appreciatively before saying to Ghallim, "You're right. Fire should be free." She cackled again. "Enjoy your stay in this city, then. I hope it serves you as well as it did me!"

Sloshing a step closer to her and dousing some of the brush fires around the orphanage, Tel offered with utter sincerity, "Would you like a hug?"

She only laughed and soared into the air, up and up and up into the scarlet clouds where her fiery aura blended with and vanished into the flames pouring down on Athens. Without a moment of hesitation at its mistress' departure, the fire elemental lunged again at Avaris. He parried with one massive stone arm, but the stone creaked under the impact, and the cracks around his joints deepened and widened. Little pieces of his armor began to chip off and patter to the ground.

Looking around frantically for something useful that _I_ could do, I stopped short and grabbed Ynez's arm. Approaching Astera's ward line were Adonis and his shaved head, leading a band of Reds. From another direction stormed the Prima of House Bonisagus (and putative guardian of the Aegis), wreathed head to toe in Hestia's flames. For once I wished that Ars Fati had lied.

" _Leona_?" I breathed.

Before I could confront her, Adonis stabbed an accusing finger at Ynez and shouted to his followers in a mature, Ars-Animae-enhanced voice that contrasted terrifyingly with his childish figure, "Our city is collapsing and _she_ is responsible! _Xenos_ she is, and _xenos_ she shall be!"

As if at a prearranged signal, three Reds raised their bows in unison and fired at point-blank range.

At the same time, pushed past her limits, Ynez screamed back, "I'm done with your xenophobia! What right do you have to treat us like trash?" Echoing her challenge, her bear exploded out of thin air right in front of her. "Shield me!" she shrieked at it. "Do not kill!"

Two arrows plunged into the bear's shoulder all the way to the fletching, and it reared back on its hind legs, clawing at the feathers, its defiant roar echoing off the orphanage buildings. The last arrow thudded into Ynez's shoulder, and she gave a gasp of equal parts fury and pain. Behind her, the peacock that was her pride burst into existence and fanned its tail out in a dazzling display of iridescent feathers, each of the eyes glaring unflinchingly at Adonis and the Reds.

Striding forward majestically with her bear, her peacock, Hestia's bone sword, and Hades' spear, and completely ignoring the shaft still twanging in her flesh, Ynez hissed venomously at Adonis, "You, little boy, are in so deep over your head that you can't even _begin_ to see the surface of what's going on. I don't have time right now to deal with you, but if you and your friends set _one_ foot on orphanage grounds, _I will make time_."

Although his expression wavered only fleetingly before Adonis raised his anger like a shield and stood his ground — just a step outside the ward line — his Reds cringed before the pride of Ynez's power, exchanged nervous glances, and began to edge away from their leader.

Glancing up from the ring, Ghallim added in complete exasperation, "I 'ave spent ze past few days dealing with ze Plague, and if people insist, I can show you all just 'ow bad eet can get, entirely apart from pustules and such! So _please_ , everyone, go do something else!"

The poor Sleeper Reds looked inclined to obey.

Since Ghallim and Ynez seemed to have the gang members well in hand, I rushed forward to intercept Leona. At my approach, she pointed her wand directly at my heart — the wand of searing, the one Thoren had specifically forbade any of his mages to bring on his raid — and I skidded to a halt three feet away. Casting a quick Ars Essentiae shield around myself, I asked as innocently as I could, "Why are you on fire? What's going on?"

Incredulous, she actually stopped in her tracks. "'What's going on?'" she repeated. "You imprisoned a _goddess_ and didn't expect any _consequences_?"

Keeping her talking seemed like the best option — because if she were talking, at least she wasn't fighting us, and hopefully Ynez's bear wouldn't find an excuse to murder yet another senior mage from House Bonisagus. "Oh…. How did you find out?"

" _She told me!_ How could you do something like that?"

I'd had quite enough of false accusations and unjust blame. I hadn't bound Hestia, I hadn't slept my way up through the Hermetic ranks, and I mostly certainly hadn't lured Thoren to his death, gods damn it all! I was just an eighteen-year-old who through no choice of my own had been born to a Titan and a mortal and then, when said mortal perished in an untimely manner, been brought to this madhouse of an orphanage. I was just trying to do the best I could with the situation I'd been placed in when I was a toddler. "We had nothing to do with it!" I yelled at Leona. "Nothing! We weren't even alive when Despina bound Hestia! We're trying our best here!"

Before I had even finished speaking, she blasted at me with Hestia's fire, but something in her eyes softened slightly at my words, and she pulled the blow at the very last second. The flames surrounded me just long enough to terrify me — and flickered out before they could consume me. The fires around her sank back into her skin.

Screaming in (Bonisagi) Enochian, I tried and failed to shatter her wand, but I did heat it to glowing white and she dropped it with a sharp gasp. Stooping to retrieve it, she snapped, "Then you should have told the other Houses and asked for their help! You should have told _me_! You were at the Acropolis often enough!"

"I was going to!" I cried, hating that my voice had gone all desperate and whiny. "I even started out for the Acropolis, but then Ars Fati told me you had changed your mind and had turned against us — "

"You listen to Ars Fati entirely too much!" she said, but now she sounded more like a mother lecturing a child who kept climbing trees and falling out of them and breaking bones yet never learned her lesson.

If, in this case, broken bones were an analogy for shattered cities.

Behind us, a shout of pain rang out, musical even in its distress, and we both whirled around to see Tel dance away from a fiery blow, only to twirl straight into a fireball. Summoning a burst of strength by draining his own life force, Avaris dove forward, strewing more pieces of stone armor across the grass, to seize the fire elemental around the waist. Grunting, he grappled it and dragged it bodily away before it could deliver a fatal blow to Tel.

At least the fire elemental looked as if it were wearying at last, its fires burning down to reveal the embers of its heart.

From high in the scarlet clouds, Hestia's voice wafted to us, addressing Ghallim, "I wasn't lying, you know, when I said that I was the least of your problems. My niece is fearsome and the Plague is her doing. If I were you, I wouldn't get into a duel of strength with her."

"I do not plan to!" Ghallim shouted back up at her.

Suddenly, a wave of power swamped us like a tidal wave and crashed against the hillside, then drained into the ring. At the same time, the energy already in the ring began to spin faster and faster, sucking in more and more Plague and building up pressure targeted inexorably at the filters meant to convert it into harmless Quintessence.

"I cannot control eet anymore!" Ghallim yelled. "Take eet, 'Estia, so your sister and niece cannot use eet!"

A bolt of black lightning shot out of the ring and pierced the clouds like a leyline, and through it Hestia started to siphon off Plague energy. Slowly, ever so slowly, the spinning subsided.

While we were distracted, Adonis vaulted over the bear that had slaughtered his mother and wrapped a hand around her murderer's neck. Shrieking the insult "Mother-killer!" he tore Ynez's Pattern in two. She crumpled to the ground, barely conscious, and her control over her wrath shattered entirely. Bellowing madly, the bear rampaged through the Reds, savaging them as it went, and they very wisely abandoned their leader and fled for the (relative) safety of the burning, collapsing city.

Leaving Tel to deliver another powerful blow to the fire elemental that nearly quenched its flames, Avaris teleported straight to Ynez, plucked Adonis off her, and flung him aside. But the bear leaped forward at the same moment, long, cruel claws outstretched to maul Adonis — and it impaled Avaris instead.

His stone armor crumbled into dust, leaving only an aged man, hunched on all fours in the grass and coughing up blood.

In keeping with proper responsibility and such, Ghallim or I should have confronted the bear then, but Ghallim actually flinched when its insane gaze raked across him, and I remembered the last time I'd tried to fight it.

"Leona!" Ignoring the wand of searing, I grabbed her arm. "Please, can you deal with the bear? Without killing anyone?" After all, she'd just _told_ me to ask for help when I was outmatched, hadn't she?

Still stunned by the speed and viciousness of the fight, she stammered, "Look what you've done to the city — _your_ city!"

"But we weren't the ones who — "

"You inherited the problems of your House," she said emphatically. "A Secunda cannot shirk responsibility when it is convenient."

I hated that she was right. "We're trying! We're still young! I'm eighteen, Ynez is fourteen, Tel is also eighteen — and Ghallim doesn't even believe he can do magic! And our mother died!" If _we_ bore the blame for Despina's fiasco, then it was _Leona's_ fault that Astera had died too soon and left us to shoulder burdens much too heavy for us to carry safely.

Leona had the grace to look faintly embarrassed — or maybe she was just terrified of the bear, which had abandoned Avaris and was now rounding on us. "I can't believe that mere children can wield such power," she muttered, staring transfixed at its teeth and claws.

I shook her arm again. "I promise I will explain everything to you later — but please help us now!"

"Oh, very well!" And she stepped forward, wand raised, to confront the bear.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tel throw back his head and raise his arms triumphantly as the fire elemental fell full-length across the yard, setting patches of dried grass on fire. Ghallim rushed over and tore the Quintessence out of it, leaving only a small heap of smoldering embers. Losing water by the bucketful, Tel sloshed across the yard to heal Avaris, leaving a muddy mire in his wake and completely drenching the peacock. Swiveling its tiny head around to goggle at him, Ynez's pride didn't even seem to mind.

Taking advantage of everyone's weakness and distraction, Adonis tried to finish Ynez off where she lay, but the bear spun away from Leona, crossed the yard in one bound, and ripped him to pieces before any of us even knew what was happening. From his bloody mangled corpse scurried a raccoon spirit, taking with it its aura of mindless, petty vengefulness. Oh, poor, poor Adonis….

"What is _wrong_ with all the children in Athens?" Leona bellowed, hurling a fireball at the bear just a second too late to save her friend's son.

Raising its bloody muzzle from the boy's corpse, the monster batted away the fireball with one powerful swipe and tensed its muscles for a fresh attack. I shrieked a warning and tried to throw up a shield around Leona, but the knife slipped and cut deeply into my thumb, and I yelped and dropped the wood carving. The shield that had begun to form around her melted back into the air, but Leona did flash one of her appraising looks at me. I could only hope that she _might_ recall all the times she'd seen me protecting people during fights instead of attacking them myself.

"Ashton," our resident mercenary inquired with perfect equanimity, "can we eat ze bear?"

His avatar growled, "Yes, but it will be hard and might hurt Ynez."

Searing energy swirled through the air again, as if an unseen hand had plunged into the depths of the ring and were manually spinning the Plague faster.

Raising his head abruptly and sniffing the air, Ghallim called to everyone in the yard, "Eet seems zat ze 'arvest 'as been shackled against eets will to ze Plague."

Without warning, Ashton split off from his host and pounced lightly to the ground as a large silvery lynx, startling Leona so much that she jumped. (I took perhaps excessive pleasure in her discomfit.)

"Play cat and mouse to distract Persephone while I open ze 'Earthstone chamber!" Ghallim ordered. Bounding into the Hearth, preceded by his god, he shouted to the other god-in-residence, "Jamie, do you want to 'elp?"

Beside me, Leona finally drew sufficient breath to gasp, "Bears and peacocks and now lynxes? What in the world is going on at House Criamon?"

An excellent question. "I'll get back to you on that," I said somewhat sourly.

* * *

Later we managed to extract the full story of happened in the Hearth from Ghallim, under threat of death by seraph (Zoe), death by bear (Ynez), death by danse macabre (Tel), and death by exhaustive interview (me). The first threat excited him, the second slid right off him, the third amused him — but the last actually convinced him. Who would have thought that the pen was more intimidating than _magic_?

As Ghallim raced deep into the caves, sprinting towards the Hearthstone chamber where Persephone had bound Demeter, Ashton bounded back into his mind, and Jamie and Thanos intercepted him. Over the rhythmic pounding of their footsteps, Jamie called out, "The mice always work together, even if we're only three now." The two flanked Ghallim, curving out through the tunnels to scout ahead.

Through the mind link, Thanos at last explained his family drama (which would have saved him a lot of grief if he'd been forthcoming in the first place). "I was only eighteen," he began a little dreamily, his mental voice serene even as his physical body raced along. "I was the youngest of seven siblings, all of us born Awakened with fantastic abilities. Everyone thought us blessed and expected much greatness from us, and our parents were proud. Demeter was much older than I, so her daughter Persephone was only a few years younger than I and the two of us grew up together. As the story goes, we fell deeply in love — but Demeter was overprotective of her daughter and forbade her to see me. Naturally, that only pushed Persephone to rebel, and we would sneak off together to explore dangerous Umbral realms. In retrospect, we probably should have taken more precautions before daring the realm of the dead...but I was eighteen and she sixteen, and we were overconfident as only the young can be, for always before we had extricated ourselves from difficult situations. Spirits, demons, dragons — we had fought them all side by side, and vanquished them all.

"But this time was different. This time, in the depths of Hades, I lost her. I searched and searched, and I called and called her name, but I could not find her. And so in the end I was forced to return home, leaving her trapped in the land of the dead. My sister screamed at me, of course, for very good reason, and tried to bring back her daughter. But she also failed. As the years passed and my powers waxed, I returned again and again to search for my lost love, but again and again I caught only the briefest glimpse of her hair, or her hand, or the side of her face before she slipped back into the shadows.

"Fifty years passed, then a hundred. My family grew evil and corrupted by their powers, as is wont to happen, and I swore to protect humankind from their warped fantasies. One by one I fought them, and I began to imprison them in Tartarus. Eventually I became the ruler there and could at last summon Persephone to me — but our reunion was bitter, for she had turned dark and twisted through centuries of imprisonment among the shades. Our child — she presented our child to me, but the poor thing had also succumbed to the evil of the underworld and been transformed into the essence of the Plague. Persephone could see nothing wrong with it. And so I knew that I could never release either of them.

"My sister," Thanos concluded soberly, "was blinded by a mother's love and never grasped the menace that her daughter and grandson had become. She thinks it's all a misunderstanding."

"Perhaps she 'as changed 'er mind," Ghallim suggested. "Ze 'arvest Resonance appears to be reluctant."

"Yes, perhaps," agreed Thanos. "But regardless of what Demeter thinks, she is now captive to her daughter, and you cannot defeat Persephone."

"Eet will not be necessary. I do not intend to fight her," Ghallim replied calmly. "I only wish to free Demeter and untwist Persephone, eef such a thing eez possible."

Thanos' only response was a hollow, defeated laugh, and through his and Jamie's eyes, Ghallim saw a vision of Persephone standing before the door to the Hearthstone chamber, hand pressed to the translucent stone to channel her mother's power. Stunningly beautiful, she seemed the very vision of all that was best and brightest about springtime, and as the mice approached, even Thanos' dying cypress tree trembled and put out fresh shoots.

Thanos, too, trembled, for an entirely different reason.

Ghallim merely inhaled deeply and sucked Quintessence from the Hearth into himself, and called through his bond to Hestia, "Would you be interested in destroying your prison?"

With a gleeful laugh, she answered, "Destruction is one of my favorite tributes!"

Raising his left hand, Ghallim summoned Hestia's fires and blasted the door right open. Inside the chamber, Tessa was tethered to the Hearthstone and wrapped head to foot in supple green vines that gagged her.

Taken by surprise, Persephone spun around to face him, tendrils of Plague still drifting from her fingertips. In a musical voice that tinkled like a mountain creek, she said, a little reproachfully, "I'd hoped that you would use the resource I gave you. One god to replace another — you might have saved the city."

Gently, Ghallim replied, "I appreciate ze gift, but we do not need another god bound 'ere."

"Well!" Persephone shrugged lightly, petals and leaves drifting from her shoulders to carpet the ground. "My mother's power is invaluable...but take it or leave it as you wish. I only thought to help."

"Power eez not everything, my child," said her cousin's priest softly. "More important are zose small moments in life — when you find something good to eat, say, or finish a drawing or piece of artwork."

A thunderous storm passed through the goddess' eyes. "I never got to experience any of those! They were all taken from me!"

"Ah, but even better than vengeance is _freedom_ ," Ghallim counseled, just as he had counseled one of her aunts only a short time ago.

"Freedom…," Persephone sighed. "I haven't felt it in so long…. _Thank you_ for taking Thanos' immortality from him. Binding my mother here was a gift to all of you, in gratitude. I am surprised that you have the wisdom to reject it — it is more than my cousin could ever have taught you," she added cattily. Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him on the cheek. "My aunts and uncles and cousins will all come soon. I have many enemies, and I could use followers." Trailing a hand down his arm, she examined his bond to Hestia, testing its strength.

"I 'ave been bound to many things," he explained calmly. "I can care about many at ze same time. For example, right now I want my city back, I want freedom from fear, and I want peace for everyone — including you and Tessa."

"How very...altruistic. What possible appeal can a heap of crumbling stone and mortar hold for you?"

"A city eez more zan just eets physical manifestation. Eet eez an idea, a responsibility."

"I wouldn't know!" she snapped petulantly, like the child she had been the last time she walked the earth. "I never had one of my own!"

"Now you can," Ghallim pointed out. "But you must know zat eet eez more zan just putting your name on something and moving on. Any common gang member can scratch 'is name on a building and call eet 'is. For you to 'ave your own city means protecting eet, nurturing eet, 'elping eet grow. We all want to be builders, do we not?"

After a long, considering look, Persephone said, "You will make a fine king. I look forward to helping you conquer your kingdom someday."

Diplomatically, he replied, "I 'ave other priorities for now, but I will keep eet in mind."

Laughing her bell-like laugh again, she kissed him a second time. "Then I shall leave you to deal with my mother." She moved back up the tunnel gracefully and purposefully, her steps taking her past the crevice where Thanos cowered, and at the sight of her former lover and jailer, she cackled maniacally — sounding almost exactly like Hestia — and spat right in his face. Then she danced lightly in a spiral pattern and stepped sideways into the Umbra.

The oppressiveness of the Plague abated very slightly.

Hurrying to Tessa's side, Ghallim sliced through the vines with his decay-enchanted spear and set her free before we could repeat Despina's mistake.

As soon as she could speak again, Tessa demanded, "Where's my daughter? What's she doing?"

"Do not worry," Ghallim reassured her cheerily. "She eez off to found 'er own cities."

"You let her wander off on her own? She's only a child!"

"Not any longer. You must let 'er grow up, Tessa, so she can find 'er own way," he advised. As consolation, he handed her the packet of untainted seeds and added, "I believe you 'ave been searching for zese."

Ripping it open, she exclaimed in wonder, "Where did you get them?"

"Zey were a final gift from someone who was Ascending." At his words, awe warred with envy in Tessa's face, for at the moment of Ascension, Astera had outstripped even the goddess' powers. "Well, now zat ze immediate crisis eez over, I will return to fixing my ring. You can chase your daughter eef you wish. I will not stop you."

"I plan to!" Retracing her daughter's steps to Thanos, she yanked her little brother to his feet for a good interrogation and scolding.

* * *

While the mice were dealing with the goddesses, the rest of us confronted Ynez's bear — which was even more deadly than Persephone (at least on a local scale), and certainly much more vicious (overtly anyway). Still moaning after Adonis' attack, Ynez had just barely restrained the cursed beast by a tiny amount when her wrath and pride simultaneously spied something in the distance. The peacock screeched a raucous challenge that made me clutch at my ears, and the bear broke its fetters and tore away from Ynez, gathering momentum like an avalanche.

Up the path to the orphanage hurried Zoe, her seraph swooping overhead. "Ynez! Ynez!" she called out worriedly. "Are you all right?"

The peacock desperately flapped its wings and swiveled its pointy little head between Zoe and Tel repeatedly, as if pointing out just how much more stunningly good looking the latter was, and how the former couldn't possibly be worth any of Ynez's attention — but Ynez brushed it away distractedly. "Zoe! Get away!" she shrieked.

Although Zoe had a fraction of a second to defend herself from the bear, she wavered, torn between self-preservation and repugnance for injuring Ynez, even indirectly. I scrambled for my piece of wood, but it was still slick with my blood, and I couldn't get a good purchase on it to whittle anything recognizable, and the shield refused to coalesce around Zoe. Roaring, the bear plowed into her in a blur of teeth and claws to punish her for her crush on Ynez.

"Leona," I begged, "please help us!"

She needed no further invitation. Raising her wand again, she shot a stream of fire right at the bear, but it sensed the heat, lifted its head, and bellowed ferociously, and such was Leona's fear of the monster that her hand jerked at the critical moment. The flames missed the bear entirely and set a nearby tree ablaze.

The score so far looked like bear: infinity, House Bonisagus: zero.

Crawling to the embers of the fire elemental, Ynez lit one of her candles, then angled her mirror so she could see both herself and the bear. In the glass, Avaris stood just behind her, placing a paternal hand on her shoulder and lending her strength. "Good luck, my noble lamb," he said lovingly. "There will be much suffering along the path, but I hope that there will also be much joy. And so the cycle continues." Before her eyes, his spirit hugged her tightly and then faded from view along with the bear.

In the real world, the beast vanished with a pop right as it raised a paw to finish off Zoe.

"Noooooooooo!" Ynez screamed, dropping the mirror with a clatter. "Avaris!" On her hands and knees, she scrabbled over to his body, shoved Tel aside, and clutched Avaris' arm desperately. "Come back, Pater!"

Holding up his hands in a gesture of defeat, Tel apologized over and over. "I tried to save him, I really tried, Ynez. I'm so sorry."

From Avaris' body rose his avatar, a gold Eastern dragon, sinuous and horned, and it swept around the orphanage, brushing each of us in turn with a five-clawed foot and healing our wounds (partially anyway — I supposed one couldn't expect miracles even from emperor dragons). For one blessed moment of peace, its majesty drove back the fire and Plague, and granted us the chance to draw a deep breath and straighten our shoulders.

And then it was gone, and the world pressed down on us again.

Zoe jumped to her feet and dashed straight to Ynez, torn skirts flapping around her. "Ynez!" she exclaimed, reflexively dodging the peacock's vicious peck. "Are you all right? I have the strangest sense of deja vu, but…." Her voice trailed off into perplexity, and then she lost her train of thought as the peacock bit at her lacy sleeve.

"Go away!" Ynez snapped. At Zoe's appalled expression, she hastily specified, "Not you! The peacock!"

With one final beady glare, the bird folded its tail with great dignity and puffed back into the Umbra.

"Oh, Soror Zoe," Ynez groaned, folding up on herself and curling into a ball, "I've killed Adonis now too!"

Placing a tentative hand on her back, Zoe assured her in Spanish, "I'm sure it was justified. I _know_ you, Ynez, and there isn't a bone of malice in you."

Regarding both of them helplessly, Tel suggested aloud, "You know how starfish can regenerate their arms when they lose them? Let's make Ynez like a starfish so she heals all the way. Umm, not _literally_ a starfish, I mean. Just the regrowing part? Yes?"

Four Muses appeared as glowing forms around his head. One, clapping a bone-white comic mask to her face, said to another, "This is all very dreary. We need some levity in such a horribly distressing situation."

"Mel?" asked Tel in alarm. "Mel, what's going on?"

The Muse of Tragedy didn't respond, as usual.

The Muses of Dance and Erotic Poetry began playing a lively tune on their instruments. "It's time for a dance!" Terpsichore cried gaily. "A dance is just the thing to cheer everyone up!"

"You're all acting kind of strange, but okay. If that's what you want," Tel said, surrendering to the music, and he began to caper and leap about the yard. Giggling giddily, Ynez ran over to him and hopped along with him, and he caught her around the waist and swung her in a swooping arc.

"What in the name of all the gods is going on at House Criamon!" Leona sputtered, her eyes nearly falling out of her head.

"Well, it's very complicated," I explained, "so it might be easier to start from the very beginning." With Cly's help, I launched into chronicler mode: "Four hundred years ago, Despina Delios bani Criamon entered Athens to find the abandoned orphans starving and freezing to death. To save them, she struck a bargain with Hestia to warm them for as long as her — I mean Despina's — heart beat. But this wasn't quite as altruistic a move as you might imagine — " Leona actually snorted at that — "for Despina pursued Ascension with single-minded fanaticism, and as a mistress of Ars Temporis, she had foreseen that the orphanage and the children would be useful to her. In fact, one might wonder if her Marauderism had warped reality precisely so that she would find the dying children and have an excuse to bind Hestia to the Hearthstone…."

"This is very good," Cly praised me. "We need to remember some of these phrases for that history we're writing. Although we should polish the wording later."

I continued, "In addition, Despina had learned through her studies that she would need Hades' knowledge of the paths to the underworld in order to Ascend, so Hestia's imprisonment served a secondary purpose as well — as practice for when she would need to challenge the king of the dead himself — "

My words cut off with a squeak. Icy hands grabbed mine and pulled me into a lively jig, and I looked up at Avaris' dead eyes and lolling head. My squeak turned into a scream as soon as I drew another breath.

From the ground, the pieces of Adonis' corpse reassembled themselves like parts of a wooden puppet and bobbed up into a standing position, and Mel handed him a small harp, a smile of genuine pleasure under her tragic mask. Nodding exaggeratedly in time to the dance music, Adonis jerked his hands across the harp strings, and a discordant cascade of notes sent a shudder up my spine.

"Tel!" I screeched helplessly. "Tel! Make it stop!"

Spinning a grinning Ynez in a graceful underarm turn, he spared only the briefest glance in my direction and retorted, "Just stop dancing then. Why are you dancing with Avaris anyway? That's just creepy."

"Do you think I _want_ to dance with Avaris? Tell Terpsichore to stop it!"

Tel's only response was to twirl Ynez again.

Recovering from her shock at last, Leona incinerated Avaris' body.

After an extra minute — just to prove that they didn't take orders from mere mortals — the Muses stopped the music and dancing. Adonis fell to the ground in pieces once again, and Ynez stumbled back from Tel, eyes bright and cheeks pink, while poor Zoe averted her gaze and picked fastidiously at the torn lace on her sleeve.

"This is absurd!" Leona babbled. "This is completely and utterly insane! This is precisely why one does not create a Hermetic House full of children led by another child! I am going to write to the ruling council of House Criamon to recommend that — "

Very very fortunately for our continued independence — but very very unfortunately for the city — a series of muffled explosions thumped like drumbeats in the distance.

Running out from the Hearth, Ghallim shouted urgently, "Persephone eez destroying ze Aegis! Zat eez ze 'omage she demands from mankind!"

"It can't be!" I protested. "I thought — I thought — bringing her back would _fix_ the Plague…." My voice trailed off as I remembered all the catastrophically wrong assumptions I had made over the past week and a half. Why break the trend before my home lay in ruins?

"Maybe you should stop thinking so much," Tel suggested helpfully. "I don't. I'm pretty sure it works better that way."

"Look, Marina," Ghallim said, "I do not 'ave ze time right now to explain everything to you, but just believe me — Persephone eez evil. She eez ze mother of ze Plague!"

In the Umbra, Persephone was systematically circling her cousin's city, trodding on the spirit reflections of the Aegis stones and crushing each one in turn. The orange ring surrounding Athens went black, and for the first time in three years, Plague flooded into the city. In a twisted way, I thought, reaching into my satchel for the shard from Thoren's staff, it was a blessing that Mel had killed him before he had to watch the Aegis fall.

If only she had killed me, too, before I could carry out Astera's plan and doom us all.

Quickly proving Leona's assessment of Criamoni efficiency wrong, Ynez gauged the situation. "Okay," she said to all of us. "The city will fall. We must leave at once."

Immediately, Ghallim shook his head. "No. I will stay 'ere to 'elp people."

Tel, to everyone's surprise, seconded him: "I will also stay here. This is our home. Even if I can't destroy the Plague, I can keep myself and my friends safe."

"But there is no holding the line," Ynez argued. "This city _is_ going to fall, so we have to go now! It's only a strategic retreat, Tel."

"That is the wisest thing you've said," Leona remarked, sounding grudgingly impressed.

As if to underscore Ynez's point, the Tower of the Winds collapsed with a crash we could hear all the way at the orphanage. In the distance, tiny animal forms leaped out of the windows and spread their wings as the home of House Bjornaer fell, and I was just petty enough to enjoy the thought of all those bullies tumbling down, down, down.

"Soror Zoe," Ynez ordered, "gather the Quaesitori. Leona, tell the people of Athens that we can no longer be responsible for them. I think they will be more inclined to listen to you."

"Very sensible," Leona said approvingly. "I will gather my House — " Her attention was suddenly caught by the shard that I was turning over and over in my hands. "What is _that_ , Marina?" she demanded, horror crossing her face.

"I'm going to rescue Thoren," I said defiantly.

Her opinion of our House immediately plummeted again. "Are you mad?" she shouted. "He died! He is _dead_! You can't just go into the underworld and pull out dead people!"

I stood my ground and met her gaze determinedly. "Not 'people.' Just one person. Singular. I am doing this, Leona. I'm only telling you because I'm laying all my cards on the table."

While honesty might have helped us a week ago, it didn't seem to be doing any good right now. "Your entire House is mad!" Leona yelled at all of us. "The Prima is fourteen years old and cannot control her magic, the Secunda has been driven insane by love — "

At her words, the Muse of Love Poetry perked up. "This is a great time for a ballad!" Erato exclaimed enthusiastically.

Glaring at her, Tel snapped, "Who the f— " Leona cleared her throat very loudly — "are you?" he finished.

"Now that _is_ an appropriate introduction for the poem," Erato tittered. "Mel, _dearest_ , darling sister, you _must_ tell me _all_ about Tel and Verrus. I want _all_ the juicy details — the more explicit, the better."

Flinging out his arms, Tel appealed to the heavens, "What is going on here?"

"An excellent question," Leona snapped, "and one which I would not presume to answer. _I'm_ going back to the Acropolis. Zoe, don't you have some Quaesitori to see to?" Seizing the Inquisitor's arm, she practically ran from the Forgotten Orphanage.

Ynez barely noticed their departure, as she was much more preoccupied with getting our House to safety. "Ghallim, Tel, we can and will rebuild Athens," she argued. "But we should regroup in Alexandria, where the Plague is less severe."

"Alexandria? Oh," Tel (or maybe Thalia?) moaned, inventing an entirely nonsensical excuse, "but we'd have to get on a boat to get there. I don't want to get on a boat. I'd rather swim all the way."

"Ah," Ghallim needled him, acting more like his usual irritating self, "but zere are crocodiles in ze Nile. Do you want to be eaten by a crocodile?"

"Crocodiles?! Ynez, why do you want to go somewhere with _crocodiles_?"

At last Jamie interrupted us, bounding out from the Hearth and tugging urgently at my arm. "We have to get inside now! Look!" And he pointed dramatically into the distance, out past the harbor, all the way to the horizon where the Viking ships bearing Thoren and his mages had sunk from view that terrible night.

Tonight, a tidal wave was rapidly gathering strength and roaring towards the city.

Its Resonance screamed, "I've been waiting for _so_ long!"


	22. Probably Fri Mar 12 to Sun Apr 11, 1490

**Probably Friday March 12 to Sunday April 11, 1490**

Even more downtrodden and defeatist after his encounter with Persephone, Thanos trudged into the yard after Jamie. "I did warn you that my family is dangerous," he sighed, sounding for all the world like his kinswoman Oizys, goddess of misery and depression. "Poseidon has wanted revenge ever since this city chose Athena's gift of the olive tree over his offering of a salt spring."

"Yeah, well, who wants _more_ salty water when we already have an entire sea full of it?" I muttered absentmindedly, still transfixed by the wave that sped towards us. Dark and sinister under the lightning-lit sky, it struck the shallower seabed near land full force, slowed dramatically, and grew and grew until it transformed into a wall of black water up to the clouds themselves.

"Thucydides theorized in _History of the Peloponnesian War_ that tidal waves are caused by underwater earthquakes!" Cly yelled into my ear. "This is so exciting! We get to see one up close! Make sure you remember everything so we can cross-reference our observations against different sources!"

For once, I didn't share her enthusiasm for scholarly research. This was no ordinary phenomenon that we could expect to follow natural law — this was a god's revenge, unprecedented within the annals of Thucydides. When it hit Athens, Poseidon would unleash millennia's worth of pent-up ire. Everything his niece had built and nurtured — from the harbor at Piraeus that had seen the defeat of the Persians, to the proud walls that had held back the Ottomans, to the graceful marble temples throughout the city that had seen her worship, to every last person who lived in her city and so bore guilt by association — all of these would be smashed by the impact of the water and dragged out to sea in an homage to the god's inexorable power.

Tapping his fingers against his leg and counting off the seconds, Ghallim calculated the speed of the wave. "Assuming nothing changes, we 'ave a few tens of minutes before eet 'its ze city," he predicted.

"What can you do?" Ynez demanded of all of us.

"Nothing," Thanos said flatly. "My brother will have his revenge."

I _might_ be able to slow or even divert the wave, but challenging the god of the oceans in his own domain seemed like a terrible idea. Daughter of a Titan I might be, but goddess I was most certainly not. (See, Thoren? I'm learning restraint. Aren't you proud of me?) Still, with Ars Essentiae I could warn the population and give people a chance — not a good one, but a chance nonetheless — to seek high ground. Snapping into action, I ordered Ynez and Tel, "Help me broadcast a message across the city. I'm going to tell everyone to get to the Acropolis."

Ynez bobbed her head up and down vigorously. "Tel can charm them into obeying."

Picking out a fresh piece of wood, I carved a large horn for a loudspeaker, while Ynez and Tel (channeling the Muse of Dance this time because, as he said, "Dancing is kind of like running, right?") chanted together in Enochian. When the Effect had gathered all the force we could manage, I boomed out through the horn, "Everyone, there's a tidal wave coming! Please go to the Acropolis as fast as you can!"

Behind me, Thanos groaned and hid his face in his hands. "You do realize that you just triggered a stampede, right?" he moaned.

Oops. Why did everything I did to help have to backfire? And seriously, why hadn't he stopped me about half a minute earlier? "Um, everyone, please go to the Acropolis in an _orderly_ fashion!" I amended.

A beat late, Tel added in an incongruously cheerful voice, "There's free food and beer at the Acropolis! Get it before it runs out!"

As our message rang out across the city and echoed from the walls still standing, Thanos' pessimism quickly proved justified. The poor civilians had already been petrified by the assault of burning rain, raging infernos, collapsing buildings, flying masonry, and invading Plague — not to mention the sight of forty-foot-tall elementals swinging at one another by the Forgotten Orphanage, home to the terrifying Ynez Murillo bani Criamon. Now they panicked completely. Raving like maenads, Athenians ran wild-eyed towards the Acropolis, shoving one another out of the way, trampling anyone who fell, and even crushing hapless people against the piles of rubble that blocked the streets.

Even in their madness, though, they gave the orphanage a wide berth.

"Come on! Let's go!" Ynez shouted at us over the tumult.

Without even waiting for me to summon a wind disk, Ghallim took off at a breakneck pace and was swallowed up almost immediately by the mob. While I whittled as fast as I could and Ynez rattled off a string of (unconjugated) Enochian, Tel dashed through all the orphanage buildings, yelling for his parents and brother, and by the time we'd finished our disk, he'd rounded up Gus, Lily, Timo, and even a yawning Calla and grouchy Mother Doria in her raggedy sleep cap.

"What about Sy?" Ynez demanded. "Get Sy!"

Tel shook his head sadly. "He's dead."

Sorrow stopped Ynez only briefly. "Onto the disk!" she ordered, shooing everyone on board. "We're running out of time!"

"We have ten to fifteen minutes left," Jamie estimated, sitting down cross-legged on the disk and locking his arms around Lily's neck.

Mother Doria sniffed haughtily and declared, "Anyone who wakes up good, honest citizens in the middle of the night to flood their city and destroy their homes is the lowest of the low."

Thanos nodded his agreement and solicitously offered her a hand up onto the disk.

"Hurry, Marina!" Ynez called. "We have to get to the Acropolis before that wave hits!"

"Don't you trust me to fly _above_ it?" I retorted, steering the wind disk upward and pointing it towards the Parthenon.

" _No_!" everyone replied in unison.

Such faith.

* * *

By the time we sailed over the Acropolis, looking for a good landing pad, hundreds of refugees had swamped the plateau and were packing themselves into all the buildings and even climbing onto the roofs or clinging to the statue of Athena Promachus. The poor Bonisagi were shouting themselves hoarse trying to establish some semblance of order and to quarantine everyone who was coughing. Ghallim was scrambling back and forth over the edge of the plateau, now crouching on flat ground, now hanging from the cliff face by his fingertips, frantically throwing up wards to shunt aside the tidal wave.

As soon as we touched down at the back of the Acropolis, Mother Doria grabbed Calla's arm and steered her towards the Parthenon. "We will pray for the deliverance of the city," she proclaimed grandly. Little did she know that the patron goddess of said city dangled from a necklace around Ynez's neck! But none of us tried to stop her as she began corralling stray refugees and herding them into the temple.

The rest of us tiptoed nervously into the crowd (well, Ynez and I tiptoed — Tel strode along with his customary grace, Thanos toiled lugubriously after us, and Jamie padded along, eyes bright and alert). If our luck improved — and it could only improve at this point, right? — we could find Leona before any of her overwrought mages murdered us on sight.

Our luck stayed at rock bottom.

Symone's warning beacon on Ynez flared, and a hush spread like wildfire through nearby mages, and from them to the mass of civilians. Before we knew it, the entire crowd had retreated from us and was eyeing Ynez as a rabbit might eye a fox. Me they regarded the exact same way Ynez's bear glowered at Zoe. I braced for a public stoning as soon as I left my Prima's side.

"Hi everyone!" Tel greeted them with perfect insouciance. "Do you think that if I turn into a dolphin and do a dance, it would save us?"

Dead silence indicated what the Athenians — mages and Sleepers alike — thought of _that_ Focus.

A huge golden form dove onto Tel and bore him to the ground, snarling and snapping.

"Verrus!" Tel exclaimed happily, not the slightest bit disconcerted that he was pinned by a giant lion. "You're okay! I didn't see you!"

His mentor gave him a final disapproving growl before letting him back up. "You should have been more observant," Verrus reprimanded him. "One of these days, your inattention will get you killed."

"Well, I'm kind of preoccupied here," Tel pouted. "The city's on fire, in case you haven't noticed. Plus Ynez says we have to go to Alexandria and I don't want to get on a boat but she won't let me swim."

Verrus looked startled. " _Alexandria_?" he demanded, rounding on our Prima. "You intend to abandon this city to the catastrophe that your House _created_?"

The listening crowd rumbled menacingly, and I stepped protectively in front of Jamie. Even if Leona considered us terrifyingly overpowered, there was no way that we could escape this lynch mob unscathed.

"It's only a strategic retreat so we can regroup!" Ynez defended her plan hotly. "Criamoni _never_ flee their responsibilities." (Except that Astera, former Prima of House Criamon, had abdicated hers quite spectacularly just hours earlier. But I kept my mouth shut.)

"What do you plan to do then?" Verrus asked skeptically over the rising anger of the mob as people transmitted our words to those behind them, distorting the meaning with each repetition.

Tel tugged on his mane and pointed out indignantly, "Why do people keep expecting _us_ to do anything? We're just children!"

"I am a woman grown!" Ynez snapped at the exact same time Verrus rebuked him, "You're a man grown, Tel. You _are_ eighteen."

Pouting attractively, Tel ostentatiously turned his back on all of us and, followed faithfully by the dogs, flounced away. (If we were lucky, _not_ to test out his dolphin dance idea. I wasn't sure that House Bonisagus could handle any more of our shenanigans, and all the refugees were right at their breaking point). Although Verrus frowned after his lover, the fury of the mob caught his attention, and he sighed and stayed to protect us from retribution. Held back by his glare and their fear of Ynez's weaponry, the Bonisagi and Bjornaer mages shouted their favorite epithets at us, the words "murderess," " _xenos_ ," and " _porna_ " rising again and again above the din.

We were wasting our last precious minutes before the tidal wave hit, I thought in despair, because the poison of the Bonisagi — and our own duplicity and rampant lethality — had corroded any trust the rest of Athens had in our goodwill.

Wide-eyed, Ynez stared at me and whispered, "They really hate you too, don't they? I don't understand. Why would they hate you so much?"

I just shrugged. How was I supposed to explain any of it to my innocent, baby sister?

"Scapegoating," Verrus said in a low, tense voice. "They need someone to blame for all these disasters. Marina isn't quite as...intimidating as you _and_ conveniently violated a social taboo." At her inquiring glance, he elaborated, "At least, rumor has it that she was _involved_ with the Magister Mundi."

Ynez turned almost as red as the clouds and looked as if she wanted to melt into the ground. "Oh." Looking up at me reproachfully, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"Ummmm." I scuffed a toe in the gravel. "It didn't seem like a big deal compared to everything else."

"It's a big deal to me!" Ynez exclaimed, sweeping a venomous glare across what she could see of the mob (i.e. the first row). "What else have they done?" she demanded. "I'll kill them if they hurt you!"

Her words did nothing to calm the angry horde.

Pushing Sleepers and mages alike out of her way and trailed discreetly by Symone, Leona arrived not an instant too soon, rescuing Ynez from a lynching and me from the very last conversation I wanted to have with my sister. "Prima Ynez bani Criamon, Secunda Marina bani Criamon," she greeted us formally, pitching her voice so it carried throughout the Acropolis. "Be welcome to House Bonisagus. Rest assured that your efforts to mitigate this disaster have not gone unnoticed." Without taking her eyes off us, she barked, "I am certain that I already gave very specific orders to all the Bonisagi to organize the refugees and ward the Acropolis. Why are you wasting time here? We have five minutes at most before that wave hits. Go!"

At her reminder, we spun around as one to stare to the southwest. Already, the wall of water had nearly reached the docks of Piraeus, and its distant roar filled our ears. Chastened, the other mages scattered, elbowing their way to their assigned tasks. About half headed to Ghallim for instructions, while the other half grabbed Sleepers and began packing them in more tightly so the horde still stampeding up the footpath would fit on the plateau.

"Much better," Leona snapped. "Symone, supervise them." To us, she added grumpily, "I must say that I am pleasantly surprised House Criamon _didn't_ summon that tidal wave."

A thundering crash nearly drowned out her voice. Seven miles away, the docks and their ancient lion statue guardian vanished under the onslaught of water, and bits of broken houses and boats bobbed to the surface as the wave inundated the port town and surged towards Athens proper. All around us, people came out of their collective trance and began to point and scream.

"It's my brother Poseidon!" Thanos yelled at Leona over the uproar. "He's a tricky one — I never managed to catch him!"

"Can we propitiate him?" Leona demanded.

The wave smashed into the city wall to the southwest, and its crest crashed down on the houses of those furthest from the Acropolis and any hope of safety. Though the din drowned out the cries of the dying, fresh corpses joined the broken furniture floating on the surface of the black water. Throughout the city, one by one, Hestia's fires blinked out, smothered by her brother's fury.

"No!" Thanos shouted back at Leona. "It's too late!"

Leona grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Where's Athena? Isn't it her duty to save her city?"

"My niece is a coward! Centuries ago, she lost a fight with Ares and turned herself into an avatar to escape! If she sacrificed her freedom in order to survive, do you really think she'd lift a finger to help us now?"

"What's _wrong_ with your family?" Leona bellowed.

Closer and closer the ocean thundered, collecting more and more debris and drowned men and women and children and animals and sweeping them towards us with the implacability of a firestorm.

"Ze wards are complete!" Ghallim yelled, vaulting over the edge of the plateau and wiping his hands on his pants. "Zey will shunt ze wave around us!"

He'd finished not a instant too soon, for just as he reached us, the wave smashed into the base of the Acropolis. Within seconds it rose to the level of the plateau — and then above it, held back by invisible shields like a gigantic glass jar. For terrifying moments, corpses and sea creatures thudded into the wards, squashed against them by force of the water, and then washed around the sides as the tidal wave rushed on to devour the farthest reaches of the city. Once it had demolished the city wall to the north, it surged backwards, striking our wards from the opposite side — they shuddered, and Sleepers and mages alike screamed, but the shields held — and slowly, ever so slowly, the water drained back out to sea.

To the west, a loud sizzle drowned out the clamor on the Acropolis as the receding waters flooded the depths of the Hearth, questing through the cave network and reaching the open Hearthstone chamber at last to quench its flames. A large cloud of steam rose above the Forgotten Orphanage, its heart stopped at last.

Overhead, Hestia laughed maniacally and called down sarcastically, "Farewell, Athens! Enjoy rebuilding!" Her storm slowly broke up to let through the first rays of morning, and she raced northward as though repelled by Poseidon's Resonance of a vast whirlpool filled with tidal rage.

As soon as the sea level dropped below the plateau, Tel sprinted to the edge of the Acropolis and leaped off it in one smooth motion, transforming midair into a dolphin that plunged gracefully into the water with hardly a ripple. When he surfaced, a young woman was clinging to his back and coughing up dirty water. Loud cheering and clapping erupted along the length and breadth of the Acropolis as we finally celebrated our survival, and a hundred eager hands reached out to pull her to safety. With a triumphant flip of his tail, Tel dove back down.

Following Tel's lead, Verrus shouted orders at the Bjornaer mages, and they too took to the water and air in animal form. Some plummeted into the depths (although none so elegantly as Tel) as dolphins, large fish, and even a massively oversized octopus that made a few young women faint strategically into the arms of their handsome neighbors. Other Bjornaer hovered just above the surface as powerful birds of prey to snatch up people and fly them to dry land.

"I am truly impressed," Leona murmured, heaving a sigh of relief and nodding her approval. "House Criamon may just have redeemed itself. Still," she added, sounding more like herself, "I would be grateful, Prima Ynez, if you and your House did not trespass too long on our forbearance. I cannot guarantee that there will be no...incidents from the more hot-headed members of Houses Bonisagus and Bjornaer."

Ynez gave her a very teenage, rebellious glare. "We fully intend to go home as soon as we can," she informed Leona. She might as well have added, "So _there_!"

* * *

Later that day, we shuffled down the Acropolis with a ragged line of hollow-eyed refugees to pick our way through the ruins of our once-proud city. The vast majority of houses and shops had cracked under the first impact of the wave and subsequently washed away in the backflow, although a handful of the sturdiest structures retained most of their walls. Every last temple of Athena not on the Acropolis was gone, devoured by Poseidon down to the very foundations. Rubbish and brick-a-brack lay haphazardly in the streets or teetered awkwardly on crumbling walls — legless tables, cracked plates, torn dresses, and even broken fishing boats. In a dazed silence we fanned out across Athens, as people hurried home anxiously to search for any possessions that had survived, and anything they could use to erect temporary shelters. With the Plague already in the city and over ninety percent of Athens lacking roofs, clean water, and food, we were going to have a major epidemic on our hands. All the Hermetic Houses — Criamon, Bonisagus, Bjornaer, and Quaesitor alike — would have to learn to collaborate without bitterness and recrimination. But first things first — like all the other refugees, House Criamon needed to go home to salvage the remains of our former life.

And so we did, to the washed-out ruins of the orphanage that had housed so many generations of aspiring mages and bondmates to lost gods. The dormitory had been reduced to jagged walls at most a foot or two high, and my library was entirely gone, of course, centuries' worth of books and records vanished without a trace into Poseidon's watery maw. Strewn across the yard and the tunnels of the Hearth were Astera's artifacts and the last toys from the orphans who had lived four hundred years ago, which Despina had stashed in that storage room by the loom chamber and which I had discovered the night we saved Ashton. Why had she kept them for so long? For sentimental reasons? We would never know. Our mother, in Ascension as well as in life, would remain a cypher to those who loved her best.

Blessedly, the doors to the loom chamber had formed a watertight seal, and the loom itself was undamaged, although Thanos eyed it darkly until I pointed out that we could use it to give him a new avatar. Then he stroked one of the shuttles thoughtfully and regarded the entire assembly with a proprietary air. While he and Jamie disassembled and stored it, and Ynez catalogued artifacts with Mother Doria and Calla's aid, I wandered back outside to help Ghallim.

Miraculously, the storage ring had weathered the tidal wave remarkably well, even if the force of the water had torn it from its foundations in a few places and twisted several segments beyond repair. Leaving the exploration of the Hearth to the rest of us, he and Ashton had immediately set to work restoring it and were anchoring down loose sections when I joined them. After a few moments of sober silence, Ghallim explained, "I will convert eet into a Node to replace ze 'Earth as a power source for ze city," and he related part of his conversation with Persephone outside the Hearthstone chamber, and how he had avoided repeating Despina's tragedy.

In the end, Ghallim, for all the personality changes Ashton had wreaked on him, was still the wisest of all of us.

Speaking of Ashton, our narrow escape had inspired a mood of euphoria in the ancient god, and he materialized as a playful young lynx that balanced lightly on top of the ring and pounced at us as we worked, chortling with glee every time he startled us. After one too many ruined Effects, Ghallim menaced his avatar with his decay-enchanted spear, and Ashton fled to hide behind my skirts. I promptly ordered him to walk along the ring and search for damage, and, swishing his tail with faint displeasure, he obeyed.

"So why did you stay?" I asked conversationally as I inscribed runes. "I never realized you were that close to Jamie."

His furry shoulders rippled in a lynx shrug. "I'm not. I can always Ascend later. There are still too many exciting things to hunt here."

And he suddenly sprang off the ring to seize a grasshopper between his paws, tormenting it with malicious glee.

"Let it go!" I protested. To distract him, I asked, "What about the Plague child? The one who said she'd never forget? Did you stay because of her too?"

Releasing the grasshopper at last, he bounded back onto the ring. "In a way. She was the Tapestry's reminder of my failure to hunt down the Plague. It is part of my nature to help the little ones," he explained, poking a paw through an entire block of mangled runes. While I hurried to re-inscribe them, he elaborated, "So many of them died from the Black Death, and I couldn't lift a paw — a hand — to save them. A hundred years of this wore out my soul and finally cracked the Ars Temporis and Manes shell that bonded me to human-Ashton."

"Oh, right!" I suddenly remembered a long-ago conversation. "So what's a true follower anyway? You said it wasn't enough just for me to believe in you?"

"A true follower must have perfect Resonance with me. So, you see, little one, you would not do. You are no hunter. But I did appreciate the offer." He chuckled and rubbed his head affectionately against my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. Ghallim yelled in protest as my Effect wavered and broke, and Ashton bounded away to purr at him.

* * *

A couple days later, Clodius showed up uninvited (still garbed in his ridiculous toga) to fulfill his "prophecy" that he and Ghallim would meet again. Interrupting our lunch break, he observed cryptically, "Well, things have come and gone and you're still here." Under our wary gaze, he casually inspected the ring, running his hands lightly over the damaged sections, and then offered, "I can help you rebuild this. I have friends who would be of great assistance."

Pursing his lips, Ghallim said doubtfully, "Zis eez a very delicate design. I do not know eef I trust anyone else to follow eet precisely."

"Oh," Clodius assured him, "my friends excel at following orders precisely."

And with a careless wave of the hand, he produced a group of Reds (including the men who had followed Adonis), who assembled silently in a phalanx in the middle of our yard. To my surprise, they seemed overawed by Ghallim and shockingly grateful for this opportunity to redeem themselves, as Clodius put it. (Whether or not I believed him was another matter — I personally suspected a very subtle form of mind control that eluded my every Ars Vis scan). Like perfect automatons, they executed Ghallim's instructions to the letter, and although they behaved with perfect courtesy — how ironic to receive better treatment at the hands of uneducated hooligans than supposedly refined mages! — they quickly made it clear that they functioned best as a unit and that my assistance was superfluous.

Perhaps when I was eight I had responded to social exclusion by finding myself a demigod to bond with, but I was no longer eight and felt no compulsion to force my way into their network. With Ghallim's assent, I bowed out of the ring project. Ynez, Tel, and I merely observed their progress as they upgraded the filters to siphon divine energy from all the gods now roaming the earth and to convert it into Quintessence.

* * *

To no one's surprise, a serious epidemic of not only the Plague but also common colds broke out across Athens, especially among those who had not even a blanket or cooking pot to their names. Tel spent most of his days at the makeshift hospital in the Agora, while Ynez and I collaborated with the Bonisagi on construction projects. Mages were scarce enough compared to the magnitude of the task that they couldn't afford to reject our aid, but they did cast nervous glances at the divine weapons that Ynez refused to let out of her sight, and right from the start, they established that my liaison with Thoren had _not_ been forgiven. It was exactly as Leona had predicted — except that I did learn to hold my head up high and (pretend to) ignore all their slights. Of the Bonisagi, only Leif treated Ynez and me like normal human beings, so we teamed up with him to rebuild houses. General exhaustion soon blunted the edge of our colleagues' vitriol anyway.

A few weeks post disaster, when it became obvious that our best efforts couldn't stem the epidemic and that too many mages themselves were falling ill and dying, Leona summoned a convocation of the Athenian Houses. Although she'd addressed the invitation to "senior mages," probably referring only to Primae and Secundi, the Criamoni leadership showed up with Tel, Ghallim, and Thanos in tow — plus Ynez's inevitable weaponry.

This time we met in one of the grand conference rooms in the Parthenon, which even had an ornate table similar to the one Ynez had hallucinated. Leona, with her flair for power plays, had seated herself like a queen at the head of it, surrounded by a good dozen of her subordinates, including Leif, Georgios, Symone, and Nitsa. (Symone, much to Ynez's disgust, now wore the insignia of a Secundus). Accompanied only by Verrus, Tessa had refused to be outshone by a mere mortal and had magicked a chair at the other end of the table into a throne made from sheaves of wheat.

And yet, when we entered the room, all eyes turned to Ynez and the power that radiated from the spear in her right hand and the sword that hung on her left side. (In a spare moment, Ghallim had created a Wonder scabbard that decreased the weight of the sword so she no longer had to drag it on the ground like a toddler with a toy.)

Looking a little displeased at being outclassed in her own sanctuary, Leona started the proceedings without preamble. "I will take my House to western Europe," she announced. "We will re-establish ourselves in Spain or France, far away from the madness here."

She was _leaving_? One by one, the pillars of my childhood were falling: My home was in ruins, my mother had betrayed me, and now House Bonisagus was abandoning Athens to its fate. I opened my mouth to protest, but Tessa was faster.

"You do realize that the queen of France is Aphrodite?" she inquired, knowing perfectly well that Leona wouldn't know this. (We did, because Jamie had warned us.) "I recommend staying far away from her."

Although taken aback, Leona quickly recovered and replied determinedly, "We must protect the bastions of the Hermetic Order, and two of the Domus Magnae are in France."

"As you wish." Tessa shrugged. "I'm certainly not going anywhere near any of my family. My House and I will head southeast to the plains."

"Southeast?" I asked. There, the land narrowed to a peninsula barely more than ten miles wide — an awfully narrow scope for a goddess, it seemed. "Isn't there much more, um, space to the north? Like, practically all of the rest of Europe?"

She ignored me — probably because I was right — and left Verrus to explain, "The gods try to avoid one another because they are very territorial, and both Hestia and Persephone have already gone north."

"Oh, is that what my sister told you?" Thanos inquired, sounding entirely unsurprised. "That's not true, actually. Our auras interfere destructively and weaken us — I mean, them — so they stay as far apart as possible to maintain maximal strength."  
"Thanos!" Tessa hissed at her little brother. Quickly, to distract the Bonisagi from this revelation, she demanded, "Where's Ares anyway? I haven't heard from him in a while. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"What do you think, Big Sis?" he baited her, sounding exactly like a mouse. Obviously he'd picked up more than just a mind link from Jamie and Ashton. At her murderous glare, he shrugged. "He's in the Holy Roman Empire, of course. Where else?"

Before his Prima could explode, Verrus cut in, "What happened to Zeus? No one has seen him yet."

"I imprisoned him and Hera a long time ago," Thanos said tersely. "They won't break free any time soon."

With cautious curiosity, Symone inquired, "So why hasn't the earth been overrun by gods yet? If your family is so formidable, why haven't you had more children with powers comparable to your own?"

"The Plague isn't enough?" I muttered under my breath, and he cast a look of distaste in my direction.

"Our father, Chronos, became concerned by how we were upsetting the natural balance. He — I suppose this is the closest word in the mortal languages — _ate_ our ability to birth more of our kind. That is not to say we haven't left powerful offspring throughout Greece, however. In fact, two of them are in this very room."

There was a brief silence.

Then — "Who?" Symone demanded, speaking for all the Bonisagi.

"Isn't it obvious?" Thanos nodded at Tel and me.

"Hi!" Tel waved at the Bonisagi. "They say I'm Dionysus' son. Of course, I've never met him, so I still consider Gus to be my true father — "

"And Marina?" whispered Georgios to Nitsa, just loudly enough for everyone at the table to overhear. "Is her mother the goddess of streetwalkers?"

It was a mark of how many of these slurs I'd endured that his insinuation barely even hurt. However, Ynez gasped in outrage and half rose from her chair, and Ghallim gripped his spear more tightly. Tel, on the other hand, furrowed his brow most attractively. "You mean Aphrodite?" he asked with genuine confusion. "The queen of France?"

At that, Tessa burst into laughter, breaking the tension before Ynez could summon her bear. "Oh, the next time I see my sister, I'll have to tell her that! I'd love to see her face!"

Even Thanos had to crack a grim smile.

When Tessa had finally calmed down, I lifted my chin and stared straight at Leona. "I'm the daughter of Mnemosyne," I proclaimed defiantly. Silently I asked, Now _is it the proper time and place to defend myself?_

Apparently, yes. Sitting back and steepling her fingers, the Prima of House Bonisagus remarked casually to Thanos, "That does, of course, explain Marina's rapid promotion through the Hermetic ranks. In fact, she really should be an Adepta Maior, not just an Adepta, at this point. If House Criamon is too short-staffed to administer the exam, I would be happy to." Giving me a tiny smile, she stared meaningfully at Symone, Georgios, and Nitsa in turn. "I have heard distressing rumors about certain — _aspersions_ that have been cast on Secunda Marina's ability and character. I trust that those present will help us put an end to them. They are unworthy of House Bonisagus."

"And of House Bjornaer as well. The daughter of Memory and the sister of the Muses — not to mention _my_ and Thanos' cousin — deserves more respect than she has received," Tessa said, and Verrus nodded curtly. "I must say, Athenian courtship mores make very little sense to me. My niece may be too cowardly to try romantic love herself, but I've never known her to be a _prude_."

"No," Ghallim seconded in his most priestly tones. "Ze great goddess Athena eez not excessively judgmental."

The consternation on Symone's, Georgios', and Nitsa's faces was _almost_ enough to compensate for all the humiliation I had suffered at their hands. Breathing a long sigh of relief, I relaxed back into my seat, ducking my head to hide a smile. Finally, my friends and family had come to my aid, exerted their authority, and quashed at least the overt bullying. It wouldn't complete my social rehabilitation, of course, but we all were leaving Athens soon anyway. In fact, _I'd_ be heading to Hades, about as far away from censorious Athenians as I could get.

Scrutinizing my expression to double-check that I was really all right, Ynez at last settled back down. "Thank you for your offer to test Marina," she said formally, "but that will not be necessary. I have already promoted her."

That certainly came as news to me, but I tried not to look too shocked.

Leona inclined her head graciously.

Returning us to the relevant topic, I asked Tessa, "But if you go south, won't that bring you much closer to Poseidon?"

"To some degree, yes, but my brother's wrath will not be directed against me. I am not the greatest threat to his domination, and the plains will provide fertile fields to replant using the seeds Ghallim has so generously provided. Perhaps, Ghallim, you would like to help?"

"I will stay 'ere," he said immediately. "Clodius and I 'ave ze power supply under control, but I would be grateful eef you used part of your 'arvest to supply ze city with food."

"You're staying here?" Leona asked in surprise.

"Whom do you follow?" Tessa inquired at the same time. "Athena? Hestia? My daughter?"

Ghallim's answer silenced both of them. " _Everyone_ ," he said firmly.

"Well," said Ynez, after giving our colleagues a moment to process that, "if Prima Tessa is willing, House Criamon would like to accompany House Bjornaer for now. It won't be for long. We do have other matters to deal with."

Thanos nodded vigorously, and Leona raised her eyebrows at me, silently asking whether I really planned to raise Thoren from the dead. _Foolish girl_ , her eyebrows said. _Remember what happened the_ last _time you ignored my warning?_

I only raised my eyebrows right back at her. I'd promised to tell her the truth — not to follow her every piece of advice. _Seek wisdom_ , Astera had urged — and how would I ever learn wisdom if I didn't make my own choices and my own mistakes?

Tapping her fingers on the armrests of her throne, Tessa said slowly, "You're a strange girl, Ynez. I would rather not make an enemy of you. You and your House may accompany me south."

After the conference broke up, I ran after Leona to thank her and return the books from Hadrian's Library (safe in my satchel, they at least had survived the tidal wave). Again she tried to dissuade me from my mission, and again I heard her out politely but shook my head resolutely.

"Well," she sighed at last. "I've tried. You know, Marina, I've watched you grow up, and I wish you all the best, but...I can't honestly say that I hope we meet again." She gave me a wry smile that removed some of the sting from her words. "I imagine that being a demigod is not conducive to leading a peaceful life."

I choked out a laugh. "No," I agreed. "No, it really isn't."

Leif, on the other hand, accompanied our House all the way to the base of the Acropolis, joking with Ynez and teasing Tel about turning into a whale (Tel's eyes lit up), and when we finally said our goodbyes, he made me promise to write to him as soon as I found Thoren.

"Who knows?" he said, winking at Ynez. "Maybe I'll even switch Houses."

And so I left House Bonisagus for the last time — _really_ the last time this time — buoyed by my vindication and the friendship I had found there.

* * *

Having taken us in (mostly out of the desire to study Ynez's abilities, I suspected), Tessa almost immediately had reason to regret her generosity. Two mornings later, we met the Bjornaer entourage just outside the ruined city wall with not only the Prima, Secunda, Tertius, his dog family, an ancient fox god, and the former king of the dead — but also the head of the Spanish Inquisition. After arranging passage for the Inquisitorial squad plus the Blues to Seville (by land — no one wanted to risk the sea route anymore), Zoe bani Quaesitor had perplexed the Catholic Church by declaring that she herself would accompany House Criamon. The official reason was that she needed to advise Prima Ynez, the highest-ranked Catholic Hermetic, and convert the rest of us, especially those Bjornaer witches.

Of all her traveling companions, she fooled only Ynez with that flimsy excuse.

Particularly since she spent _significantly_ more time following Ynez like a lost puppy than preaching the glories of the Holy Trinity.

Still, despite our reputation, we gave Tessa no trouble during our sojourn in the south. Tel devoted his days to creating a ritual that would cure his parents of the Plague, reverse the aging they had suffered in dog years, and turn them back into humans. I helped him when I wasn't with Ynez, poring over what notes and artifacts we had rescued from Astera's study and conferring with Thanos and Jamie on the underworld and the gods we needed to imprison there. Thanos, who disregarded so much "common knowledge" about how he should act but obeyed the single most inconvenient piece of Hadean lore, objected strenuously to resurrection.

"Thoren _died_ ," he argued over and over, repeating himself each time he saw me and even waylaying me when I fled into the countryside for a walk with Timo. "His time on earth is past. Demigod or not, you'll join him one day — can't you wait just a few more decades?"

When that enticement failed, he tried a different tack. "Marina, he won't be the same man when you bring him back. What makes you think he'll even love you still? After all, Inga is down there, and _you_ were the one who killed him — "

"I did _what_?" I yelped, tripping over a rock and nearly falling over. Timo wrinkled up his nose and growled reproachfully at Thanos, who ignored him entirely.

"You asked _Mel_ to heal him, didn't you?" Thanos pointed out matter-of-factly. "Haven't you figured out by now how jealous and spiteful she is? Why do you think Cly is terrified of the dogs? It's because she wisely fears anything connected with her sister. Did you _really_ believe Mel would tolerate you loving someone other than Tel?"

"But I didn't know — " I began, and stopped. "I never meant to — " I stopped again. As Leona had established, neither intent nor ignorance absolved a senior mage of her crimes. What did Thoren think of me now? Did he too blame me for his death? But wasn't that all the more reason to find him and explain myself and set things right between us?

"Also," Thanos continued mercilessly, "he won't have an avatar. You knew him for years — can you truly imagine him _happy_ if he's completely powerless? I _know_ how it feels to go from the peak of your powers to absolutely nothing," he reminded me, laying on the guilt. "Trust me, he's better off in Hades."

When that argument, too, failed to convince me, he turned to Ynez, appealing to her to exert her authority (as if that ever worked on me!) and bar my expedition. "Hades is much too dangerous," he said passionately. "Without me there to keep order, all the criminals will have broken loose. I'm sure they're rioting by now. Do you really want to let your sister walk into the middle of a war zone? In an Umbral realm? With absolutely no knowledge of Ars Manes? She's formidable, yes, but she's not coming back alive!"

Surprisingly, given her opinion of Thoren, Ynez supported my mission. "I will accompany her, Magister Thanos," she replied with great dignity, and though she had never ceased to address him using the honorific, he flinched at the reminder of his lost powers. (Although he also flinched when I called him plain "Thanos," so I wasn't sure which he preferred. Maybe he didn't know either.) "I just pieced together our Mater's complete plan, and there is a reason we must restore Magister Thoren." Drawing a deep breath, she advised, "Marina, you may want to sit down for this. It — well, you won't like it."

Thanos and I exchanged wary glances, and both of us sat at the same time.

Reluctantly, Ynez continued, "Umm, so. Astera did a massive Ars Temporis ritual to search for a path forward that would end in Magister Thanos vulnerable on the loom — and the most probable path she could find involved using the pomegranate to force him to expend all his temporal defences. I'm pretty sure she didn't know explicitly about Persephone and the Plague. I don't think she would have freed Persephone if she'd known…."

Thanos made a very skeptical "harrumph" at that.

As though steeling herself for a repulsive task, Ynez forced herself onward. "Marina, the path also involved manipulating you into helping her…." She swallowed hard. "Thoren died because she knew that was the only way to get you to back her unconditionally."

Why did it even hurt to learn that? Why should it matter that the woman who had raised me, who I'd believed had loved me wholeheartedly, had viewed me as nothing but a convenient tool?

But that was neither fair nor accurate, was it? Again I saw Astera's face just before she Ascended, and her expression of deep regret. Again I remembered the gifts she had granted each of us to mitigate the damage she had done, and her utter faith that we could undo her mistakes and do better than she had.

My anger and bitterness unraveled. What point was there in hating her or blaming her now? She _had_ loved us, after her own fashion. Maybe she hadn't been selfless, but she _had_ tried her best to care for us through a fog of Marauderism, and ultimately, all of us were better off for her having taken us in and fed and sheltered and taught us for so many years. It was certainly more than my birth mother had ever done for me.

Were mothers always this complicated?

I couldn't decipher the expression in Thanos' eyes. A mix of compassion and anger, perhaps, the terrible pity of a god.

"Ynez, child," he said almost paternally. "Your sense of duty is admirable, but you need not right _all_ of your predecessor's wrongs. You are only one person. Choose wisely."

For a moment she hesitated, staring back into his dark eyes and reading there an absolution of assumed guilt.

I held my breath, waiting for her response.

For agonizing moments she considered his words, and then she squared her shoulders and said, "Thank you, Magister. But this is one wrong that we must set right."

Throwing out his arms in a gesture of frustration, Thanos cried out, "But you'll only make everything worse for him! Out of respect for his efforts to fight the Plague, I placed him in the Elysian Fields with all the other heroes! If you bring him back, he will be nothing. He won't be a Magister Mundi, he won't stand at the head of one of the largest branches of one of the greatest Hermetic Houses — he won't even be a _mage_ anymore!"

"We'll fix things. I _promise_ ," Ynez assured him, addressing the true source of his agony. "We were waiting to tell you something until we were more certain — " well, _she'd_ waited; I'd told him weeks ago to prevent him from sabotaging the loom — "but Marina and I have discussed finding some of the other Muses and binding you and Thoren to them."

At her words, a great and terrible hunger spread across Thanos' face. "A Muse?" he demanded, leaning forward abruptly.

"There _are_ nine of them," I reminded him. "Tel and I have five — " Cly jabbed me, offended by the implication that I _possessed_ her — "but that leaves four. And Jamie tells me that at least three of them are still looking for partners."

During our journey south, Tessa had revealed (under some duress from Tel and me) that the Muses were the gods' failed project. Mnemosyne and Zeus had birthed them, and then Hephaestus had forged them into automatons, and yet the Muses had developed a passionate longing for their lost humanity. Rejecting their parents' wishes, they'd flitted off to scour the earth for avatar-less demigods to bond with — although anyone who under extraordinary circumstances had lost his or her avatar would do.

Thanos would make a perfect host.

"How about Polyhymnia, the Muse of Hymns?" I suggested. "Her interests should match yours fairly well, and I think you'd be as happy with her as I am with Cly." (My avatar rolled her eyes at the excessive mushiness but patted me awkwardly on the shoulder, as if to apologize for the jabbing earlier.)

Thanos' eyes lit up and he said with excitement he didn't even try to conceal, "Yes! I would like that!" Which for him was the equivalent of jumping up and down and running around in a circle chasing his tail.

"Great. Will you teach us all about the underworld then, so we can get there and back as soon as possible so we can find Polyhymnia and bond you to her as soon as possible?" I bargained shamelessly.

Thanos' face fell a little, but he did grudgingly consent to look at the map Astera had given me and to annotate the path to and from Thoren.


	23. Sunrise on Monday April 12, 1490

**Sunrise on Monday April 12, 1490**

Having committed Thoren's diary to memory, I chose to launch Operation Hades exactly five years to the day that Thoren led his cabal into Athens and changed my city and my life forever. The anniversary seemed auspicious (or at least no more inauspicious than any other day), and I figured that I could use all the morale-boosting I could get. Unfortunately, the tight deadline meant that Ynez and I had to rush our preparations. Thanos, of course, had much to say — none of it complimentary — on the foolhardiness of charging into a war zone with only rudimentary understanding of the factions and forces at play, and Zoe muttered deprecations about superstitiousness that endangered not only earthly lives but also immortal souls. Nevertheless, she informed Ynez that she'd accompany us to provide spiritual guidance.

"I'd appreciate that, Soror Zoe," Ynez said, her relief obvious. (Zoe blushed and Ynez missed it, as usual. No one even bothered to comment anymore. The two would just turn matching shades of crimson and insist that they were sisters within the Catholic Church and then lecture us on how pagans could not possibly comprehend the depth of that bond.)

Later, to Thanos and me, Ynez confided, "If the head of the Spanish Inquisition is coming, then we _must_ be doing the right thing."

Neither of us disabused her of this notion.

And so it was that just before sunrise on chilly spring morning, dressed in our sturdiest travel clothes and weighed down by extra Foci, Ynez, Zoe, and I tramped out to an empty field that Tessa deemed a sufficiently safe distance from House Bjornaer's encampment and crops. Accompanying us was everyone who either cared enough about us to say goodbye, or was curious enough to observe a portal to the underworld. (Neither category included that many people.)

Inhaling deeply, Ynez planted the spear's butt firmly on the grass, raised a mirror in her other hand, and reflected the sun's first rays onto the tip of the spear. The iron devoured the light but, instead of glowing, grew darker and darker until it seemed less like a spear tip and more like a hole in reality, and the very air around it vibrated with notes beyond human hearing. Instead of the black iron and adamantine gates that Thanos had summoned, Ynez's portal to Hades materialized before us as a sturdy oak door, carved with plain rectangular panels — the kind of nondescript, sensible door that might open into any respectable family home in Europe. Slowly, a brass plaque appeared in the center, engraved with a single word in flowing script: _Murillo_.

"It's your house in Seville, isn't it?" Zoe whispered in Spanish. "I'd recognize your front door anywhere. The number of prayer meetings your father hosted…."

"Hey!" exclaimed Tel at the same time (in Greek). "Ynez, isn't that your last name? Why does the door know your name?"

Verrus' stern shake of the head silenced him.

As if in a trance, Ynez placed a trembling hand on the doorknob, turned it, and pushed gently. At her touch, the door swung soundlessly inward, revealing an endless hallway that stretched on and on until walls, floor, and ceiling alike vanished into darkness. Shadowy paintings formed on the walls, still blurry but sharpening right before our eyes.

Since Ynez seemed to have lost all powers of speech, I gave a little wave to our audience and bade them farewell. "I'm sure we'll be back soon," I told Tessa. "And then we'll collect our House and be on our way."

"Travel safely. The earth's blessings go with you," she responded, with very little effort (even for her) at sincerity.

"Well," said Tel, missing her lack of enthusiasm entirely, "good luck. Come back alive, or I'll tell Mel to haunt you."

Although he'd directed that sentiment at all three of us, Ynez turned as pink as Zoe's dress anyway and stammered something eloquent about returning in one piece.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" I asked hopefully. Healers were always handy and — even though I'd never admit it — I'd feel a little forlorn without my Twin Soul.

A sentiment that aforementioned Twin Soul obviously didn't share. "Hell, no!" he practically shouted. Tessa winced and rubbed her ears, and he said in a slightly calmer voice, "I need to fix my parents."

Trotting around our legs, Gus whuffed at us, Lily pushed her cold nose into our hands, and Timo pawed frantically at our skirts until each of us had petted and fussed over him to his satisfaction. Then Thanos snapped his fingers imperiously; over the last month, he'd regained enough of his old peremptory manner that they stepped back promptly. But Tel frowned at him, and I guessed that he'd speed up his ritual just to break Thanos' influence over his parents.

After checking my satchel one final time, Jamie handed it to me. "Good luck, Marina," he said. "Come back soon." Torn between feigning I'm-a-man-and-a-god-grown nonchalance and revealing his distress at our departure, he started to turn away, hesitated, and then whirled back to fling his arms around my waist and hug me fiercely.

"We'll be back very soon," I promised into his hair. Just to break the awkwardness of the moment, I added mischievously, "By then things will have settled down enough to start your Enochian lessons again. In both the Criamoni and Bonisagi dialects, I think."

That certainly worked. Jamie dropped his arms and stumbled back, horror emblazoned all over his face. "There's no rush! Take as long as you want!" he urged. "I'm sure there will be plenty of, um, tourist attractions in Hell. Great opportunity! Don't miss anything."

Tessa laughed loudly. "Well, Prima Ynez, Secunda, Adepta, best of luck with your mission. I look forward to hearing a full report when you return."

With a start, Ynez finally stopped staring dreamily at Tel and recalled her duties as Prima. "Oh! Yes, of course. Thank you for your hospitality, Magistra. And for hosting our House while we're away. Please take care of them for me."

I didn't even need to look at Thanos to feel the skepticism he radiated.

Ignoring her little brother, Tessa nodded once, regally.

Before Ynez could step across the threshold into the Umbra, Zoe darted up to the door and tried to block it. "Ynez, let me go first," she advised anxiously. "Who knows what's on the other side?"

"No, Soror Zoe," Ynez said gently but firmly. "It is my duty to go first." Turning her body sideways, she edged around Zoe and crossed the doorway. At once she faded like old ink, growing fainter and more blurred. "It's safe!" she called back, her voice echoing distantly into the real world.

With an exclamation of dismay, Zoe snatched up her skirts and hurried after her.

Waving one last time at everyone, I, too, ran through the door, which promptly slammed shut behind me and vanished. Now the hallway ran all the way to infinity in both directions, solidifying with each step we took. A riot of colors and textures battered at my senses — the Vatican viewed through the lens of Ynez's fevered imagination. On the walls, geometric patterns of inlaid marble and precious stones exploded into focus. Elegantly sculpted and gilded columns erupted from the floor and shot up to the ceiling. Beneath our feet, the floor itself convulsed and blistered into millions of tiny mosaic tesserae depicting the fall of Lucifer and — a little too pointedly for my liking — the fires of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Noah's great flood. As we stepped carefully over the images, they shifted and rolled underfoot, like the coils of Ynez's serpent.

Hadn't I _told_ the Areopagus that Catholics specialized in gratuitous guilt?

The air trembled with a mournful, disembodied voice, and in Latin it intoned uplifting passages such as "How you have fallen from the heavens, O Morning Star, son of the dawn! How you have been cut down to the earth, you who conquered nations!"

Cocking her head attentively, Zoe identified the passage for our benefit (well, just mine, since Ynez was the one who'd inserted it into this Umbral vision in the first place), "Isaiah 14:12." Then she recited along with the voice, "No! Down to Sheol you will be brought to the depths of the pit! When they see you they will stare, pondering over you: 'Is this the man who made the earth tremble, who shook kingdoms? Who made the world a wilderness, razed its cities, and gave captives no release?'"

How...encouraging? This had better not be how Ynez viewed Thoren.

On we proceeded, and as we passed each pair of columns, elaborate golden sconces stabbed out overhead, each bearing fat white votive candles that scattered light over the massive paintings. Walking closer to examine the nearest one, I recoiled in shock: On the left side of the canvas, the life-sized figure of Vanessa heroically confronted House Criamon, stretching forth an appealing hand towards her young son, who quivered with fear and love on the far right. The next painting showed her dead on the ground, skirts tumbling about her dramatically, with the little boy crouched over her body in an attitude of heartbreak. Over both of them towered a bear that screamed its triumph to stormy skies.

I must have emitted a strangled gasp, because Ynez appeared by my side at once, rocking back when she took in the images. "Are they all like this?" she whispered.

"I don't know," I whispered back. Together, we darted to the next one, which portrayed Thoren dying on the ground and me kneeling by his side, beseeching Tel to heal him. The partner for that painting showed Thoren dead in Tel's arms, as Mel raised her tragic mask gloatingly over us. The idealized poses, the colors, the lighting — everything heightened the pathos of the scene and evoked the grief of that terrible day.

I couldn't help myself. I cried out and clutched at Astera's locket, which still held the lock of his hair.

From behind us, Zoe said in a low voice, "The path to Hell is paved with good intentions. Do not despair, Ynez, Marina. This is only to be expected." She took Ynez's hand and pulled her away from the awful paintings. "Come, let us go on."

I tried to follow, but my eyes wouldn't leave Thoren's painted face.I could only stand stock still, reliving his death over and over. Thanos was right. It _had_ been my fault, all my fault.

Pressing her lips together, Ynez yanked her hand from Zoe's, seized my arm, and marched me down the hallway. "The faster we get out of here, the better," she said grimly, resolutely staring straight ahead of her. "Come on, Marina. It can't be much longer."

As if to mock us, that deep, disembodied voice intoned, "I shall break your proud strength. I shall make the sky like iron for you, and your soil like bronze. You will wear out your strength in vain."

Tearing my arm from Ynez's, I stopped dead and screamed wildly and incoherently at the ceiling, "Stop it! Stop it! You have no right — !"

"Marina!" Ynez seized both my hands. "It's all right! Can't you feel it? It's just an Effect to drain our will."

"Didn't you learn Ars Vis from the Magister Mundi himself?" Zoe asked disapprovingly. "Didn't he teach you how to countermagic? Wild panic is displeasing to the Lord," she proclaimed, the last words an Ars Mentis Effect to calm all of us and focus our minds.

Swallowing hard, I stepped away from Ynez, clutched the locket in one hand, and reached into my satchel to squeeze the shard until its jagged edges cut my palm. Cly stepped out of my mind into the hallway, startling both of us with her corporeality, and translated that last quotation from the disembodied voice into (Bonisagi) Enochian. Desperately, I parroted her, "You will wear out your strength in vain," and _pushed_ against the Effect. It shoved back so hard that I nearly lost my balance, but Cly and Ynez caught me, and the oppressive despair in the hallway lightened slightly.

On we toiled. Yanking out a fresh scroll and quill, Cly flitted back and forth along the hallway, calling out excited commentary on the provenance of certain blocks of marble and identifying the stylistic influences on various paintings. Here in the Umbra, the tether between us was much longer than in the real world, and her voice echoed back from distant corners and held the darkness at bay.

At the far end of the hallway, something growled, and atavistic terror dogged our footsteps. Three pairs of bright yellow eyes glowered unblinkingly out of the blackness, and then the shadows writhed and split into a towering, three-headed, sharp-fanged nightmare. Candlelight glinted off three sets of glistening teeth; burning saliva splashed from three mouths to dissolve marble. This time, Cerberus wouldn't shrink back into Gus, Lily, and Timo and wag his tails at us. This time, he wasn't on our side.

But one of the pieces of information Thanos had reluctantly divulged in exchange for a new avatar was that the triple-throated guardian of the dread portals had an incurable sweet tooth and could be bribed by desserts. Tessa had (under Tel's influence, of course) procured three pieces of marzipan for us, which I now removed from my satchel and cautiously proffered to Cerberus, holding my hand palm up as I'd greet any new dog.

Ynez protested, "Marina, wait!" and threw up an Ars Manes shield around me.

Planting herself protectively in front of Ynez, Zoe hummed a hymn, casting an Ars Mentis Effect to soothe Cerberus.

Trusting them as completely as the mice trusted one another, I hadn't even stopped walking. One head growled warningly and one drew back warily — but the third bent down to snuffle at my hand. Sharp teeth snapped up one of the pieces of marzipan. Without even chewing, the head gulped it down and lunged for more.

"Hey!" I shouted, snatching the remaining two pieces away. "Those are for your brothers!"

"Marina!" Ynez cried. "Watch out!" Lifting her mirror, she reflected light straight into the dog's eyes, blinding it and throwing off its aim. Sharp teeth just barely grazed my arm.

"No! Bad dog!" I snapped. "Sit!"

"That has to be the first time anyone's ever said that to _Cerberus_ ," Cly remarked, propping her scroll against a column to jot down notes. "I'm pretty sure not even Hercules — "

Zoe sang more loudly — mostly to drown her out, I thought — and at last the head resentfully closed its lips over its teeth. It kept pushing its wet nose at my hands and trying to steal the rest of the bribe, though.

Dancing away from it, I held out the second piece to the hostile head. Cutting off mid-growl when it smelled the marzipan, it swiped it up with its great slobbering tongue and coated my hand in acidic dog drool. I yelped and wiped my hand frantically on my skirts, leaving holes in the fabric, then offered forth the final piece of candy.

Encouraged by its brothers' enthusiasm, the last head cautiously poked forward to sniff it suspiciously. Curling its lips back, it delicately picked up the marzipan in its oversized teeth and retreated again, while the first two heads whuffled around my satchel and sagged in disappointment when they smelled no more candy. Reluctantly, Cerberus pulled back from the portal to Hades and plopped his heads reproachfully onto his front paws, clearing the path for us.

"Come on," I waved at Ynez and Zoe. "Let's go!"

As soon as we passed the archway, the world changed from Ynez's frenzied Catholic fantasy into the realm of the dead as described by ancient Greek poets. Everything was gray and foggy, and a mournful wind tugged at our clothing and rustled through our hair, moaning, "Too late, too late, too late." Muffled splashing drifted through the mist, and, hand in hand, we stumbled over the uneven grass until a riverbank lined with weeping willows materialized before us.

Now it was Ynez's turn. Stepping forward, she hefted Thanos' spear in one hand, raised her mirror in the other, and called out an incantation across the black waters, "Charon! Ferryman of the dead! Brother of Death and Sleep! By the spear of the ruler of the underworld, I summon you forth!"

Zoe recited a few more passages from the Bible, but instead of aiding Ynez's Effect, the dissonance of the Christian religion and the pagan underworld clashed and clamored, and in the end the River Acheron swallowed her words.

Although we waited for a long moment, nothing changed. "Too late, too late!" sobbed the wind in our ears. Softly, the river lapped at its banks and bathed the trailing tips of the willow branches.

Lifting her voice, Ynez hailed the ferryman again. "Charon! In the name of the ruler of the underworld, I demand your attendance! By spear and mirror, I summon you forth!"

After a few anxious minutes, rhythmic splashing distinguished itself from the river's flow, and through the mist slid a small boat with a hunched figure at the prow. Garbed in a single filthy loincloth, Charon poled his ferry to a halt a few feet away from the riverbank and scowled ferociously at Ynez. "What are you doing here with Hades' spear, little girl?" he demanded in a querulous, wavering voice. "Go home. This is no playground."

"I am not a little girl!" Ynez shouted back furiously. "I am a Prima, and a woman grown, and the warden of the spirits, and you _will_ ferry us across this godforsaken river!"

With her proclamation, golden light exploded from the spear tip and split the mists so Charon could see her clearly, and for a moment, just a moment, Ynez was both a tiny, angry fourteen-year-old girl and a tall, imposing, hooded figure.

"Aaaaah," sighed Charon, his scowl vanishing. "Apologies, mistress."

Poling the boat right up to the riverbank, he shuffled aside to let us step onto it. Although his foul odor nearly choked me, Ynez was much more distressed by his state of undress. She turned bright red, her default response.

Imperiously sweeping on board, Zoe raked a contemptuous glance up and down the ferryman's emaciated figure, unclasped her cloak, and tossed it at him. "Clothe yourself properly," she ordered. "You are in the presence of Prima Ynez."

Charon spat into the river and seemed inclined to toss the cloak right overboard, but Ynez caught his eye and inclined her head meaningfully, and he sullenly wrapped himself in the Inquisitorial cloak instead, craning his neck around to glare at the large cross embroidered on the back. _That_ was certainly going to confuse the next batch of souls who came down here. I had to smother a snicker.

So far Thanos' gloomy predictions of rioting and civil war seemed entirely unjustified. Strategically positioning myself upwind of Charon while he ferried us across the dirty water, I inquired, "How has Thanos', er, absence affected the underworld?"

"Demigods! Always bringing trouble!" he spat and jerked away from me. "Missy, don't you even _think_ about kidnapping Cerberus or Perseph — " He stopped in confusion, perhaps remembering that Persephone had already escaped on her own. (Well, not entirely on her own — she couldn't have managed it without a certain demigod's help, but I wasn't going to mention _that_ part.) Rapping me on the head with his filthy pole, he snapped, "And how would I know what lies beyond the banks of the Acheron? I ferry souls across it — _one way only_ , missy — and that's it."

Why was everyone from my entire ridiculously overextended family so uniformly unhelpful?

Speaking of unhelpfulness, my half-sister immediately began interviewing him about the minutiae of his daily routine.

Rubbing my head ostentatiously (and eliciting no sympathy whatsoever from any of my boatmates), I flounced to the far end of the ferry (which was still well within range of Charon's pole) and pulled out my map to study. Ynez's path through the Umbra — that fantastically overwrought hallway — had brought us around to the side of the underworld, avoiding the front gate where Minos passed judgment on souls. If the Tartarans hadn't conquered all of Hades yet, he'd have let us through, but we couldn't be sure that he was still in charge. So Thanos had reluctantly suggested slipping in the side door guarded by Cerberus and then crossing the Acheron directly to the Elysian Fields, where we would find Thoren feasting with the heroes of yore.

"Is your hand all right?" Ynez asked solicitously, peering at it by the light of her spear.

"It's fine," I told her, clenching it into a fist and hiding it under the map. It wasn't, really — dog spittle had blistered the entire palm, and the back had swollen hideously — but since Tel wasn't around, there wasn't a thing we could do. I _knew_ I should have dragged him along.

A thud rocked the boat and nearly knocked Ynez into the river. We'd literally struck the opposite shore. Still surly, Charon shoved Cly aside, raised his dripping ferry pole, and pointed it inland. "Here's as far as I take you," he growled, as if we couldn't see that for ourselves. He started to unfasten the Inquisitor's cloak, but Zoe held up a hand to stop him.

"Keep it," she ordered. "I don't know what sort of organization Thanos ran, but you're under new management now. Public indecency is unacceptable."

I didn't bother to wait for his response (although Cly did). Rolling up the map as fast as I as could, I tucked it under one arm and bounded off the boat, landing a little awkwardly on rough ground halfway up the embankment and nearly spraining an ankle.

"Wait!" called Ynez, lifting her hem as little as humanly possible for stepping onto the edge of the boat. "Mariiiiiina, wait for me!" Hopping off and rocking the ferry dangerously, she scrambled up the slope to grab my arm.

Snarling, Charon steadied the boat with his pole and barely waited for Zoe and Cly to disembark before he pushed away from the shore and vanished back into the mist.

"Come on, come on," I muttered, shifting my weight from one foot to another as I waited impatiently for them to catch up. Astera's map bore a large X at the far side of the Elysian Fields, where they bordered the Asphodel Meadows and the cliff down to the pit of Tartarus. We were so _close_. I could almost feel Thoren at the other end of the connection.

Cly puffed up the slope after us, flailing her arms wildly when she slipped on a patch of gravel. "This is so disconcerting!" she wheezed. "Normally, when I get separated from you, I just blink and reappear in your mind library! There's none of this _hiking_ nonsense."

Zoe gave her a rather steely stare. "If you consider a mere stroll up a riverbank to be _hiking_ , Clio, you have much to learn about exercise."

"Well, I never!" Cly huffed. "The incline of this hill is clearly greater than — "

I was on the verge of abandoning all of them — forget Astera's advice about allies! — to run to the Elysian Fields on my own, Tartaran rioters or not, when Ynez clamped down on my arm and cut through their bickering. "Soror Zoe, Cly," she enunciated, "Magister Thanos warned us that the criminals have probably escaped by now and that we must proceed with caution. Perhaps we can save this discussion for another time?"

"Only if it's understood that historians have no need for athleticism!"

"Not _armchair_ historians, anyway."

"Soror Zoe! Clio! Please!"

Casting murderous glares at each other, Zoe and Cly circled far apart from each other as they climbed the riverbank to join us. Just before the top, Ynez pulled out a mirror and Zoe her Bible to shield all four of us from Ars Manes and Mentis attacks; I turned us invisible and encased each of us in Ars Vis armor.

"Ready?" Ynez asked, seizing the spear in a firmer grip and putting her other hand on the hilt of the sword.

"Yes!" I replied emphatically.

"After you, then, Marina." Ynez gestured for me to guide us.

Away from the waters of the Acheron, the entire world brightened. The mist evaporated under the onslaught of golden sunshine, and the sad, barren trees gave way to verdant shrubs laden with juicy berries that practically begged us to pluck them. Underfoot, the grayish, dew-wet grass turned a vibrant spring green. From beyond a stand of olive trees, masculine shouts and the clash of arms rang out clearly. Thanos' rioters? Consulting my map again, I led our little band forward cautiously, hoping that we wouldn't have to fight the entire way to Thoren.

But what should we see when we tiptoed up to the edge of the grove but a vast exercise field dotted with muscular men in the prime of life fencing or wrestling in friendly competitions? Here were the Elysian Fields, final home of the great and the brave. Gods, they were dazzling sight to behold! With one bold lunge, Hercules grappled Sigmund and knocked him right off his feet, while Julius Caesar crossed swords with Theseus and forced him back. On the sidelines, Scipio Africanus and Hannibal re-fought the Second Punic War, using fruit and stones to represent infantry and cavalry units, and argued passionately over whether Hannibal should have pressed on to Rome after the battle of Cannae.

"We have to interview them!" Cly exclaimed, snatching scroll and quill from thin air. "Marina, Marina, stop! Don't you _see_ them? They're primary sources! We have to talk to all of them!"

Although I'd cloaked us in invisibility, I had _not_ accounted for the need to mute us as well. At her strident call, the denizens of the Elysian Fields, their senses sharply honed by centuries on the battlefield, immediately charged in our direction with a clamor of "Intruders!" and "Cut them off!"

Under other circumstances, I _might_ have appreciated the sight of nemeses setting aside ancient quarrels and joining hands to — no, I couldn't even _think_ that with a straight face.

"Run!" shouted Zoe, pointing at a small copse of trees in the distance and bolting for it.

Ynez and I pelted after her as fast as we could, but Ynez stumbled over her petticoats and tumbled head over heels across the soft grass. Cly didn't even bother to try to run. Instead, she canceled the invisibility Effect and appeared right in front of Achilles, neatly stepping aside before he plowed into her.

"I am Clio, the Muse of History!" she shouted at the army, stopping it in its tracks. "I have so many questions for all of you! We're going to have to organize everyone so I can interview you systematically. I need you sort yourselves by time period, and then by country! Quickly, please!"

The heroes' strong, chiseled jaws dropped. The stunned looks on their faces were even better than a quiet evening in my library, reading peacefully with Timo curled up on my feet.

During their second of hesitation, I hauled Ynez to her feet and yanked her after Zoe.

Collecting themselves, the heroes howled battlecries in a dozen different languages and turned on Cly with naked swords. With an incredibly affronted expression on her face, she fled after us, yelling, "Marina, Marina, wait for me!"

Over the gently rolling fields we ran, but poor Ynez, beleaguered by excessively short legs and way too many petticoats, not to mention a spear and sword, just couldn't keep up. Again and again we slowed to match her pace; again and again Zoe or I grabbed her hand and dragged her forward until she stumbled yet again.

"Speed us up!" Zoe shouted at me.

"I can't!" I called back. My pocketknife had vanished into the depths of my satchel — and now was a terrible time to stop and dump out everything on the ground to find it.

"You need a better Focus!" she complained.

"Wait!" panted Cly. "Why can't Ynez show them her spear? It worked on Charon!"

That was actually a pretty good idea. Why _hadn't_ we tried that instead of fleeing like fugitives? Oh — maybe because we were young and inexperienced and just sort of panicked when a band of armed warriors charged us with murder in their eyes?

Spinning quickly, Ynez lifted the spear — whose glow was barely visible under the bright sunlight — and started to call, "I am the warden of the spirits — "

But that was as far as she got before Zoe gave a sudden yelp. Beneath her feet, the ground gave way and crumbled into the Tartaran abyss. For a split second, she teetered on the very edge of the cliff, wheeling her arms desperately for balance, utter terror on her face — and then she toppled over it and was gone. "Get out your Focus!" her bellow drifted back up to me.

Breaking off mid-sentence, Ynez shrieked, "Zoe!" Completely forgetting our pursuers, she scrambled to the edge of the cliff. "Soror Zoe!"

But in her panic she got too close, and the ground collapsed beneath her weight as well, sending her cartwheeling through the air. "Mariiiiina!" she shrieked.

"Here!" Cly snatched up a sharp rock and stick and shoved them at me. "Carve!"

But Zoe had already fallen out of sight, swallowed by the darkness that filled the pit, and Ynez was rapidly vanishing into the gloom, and I _still_ hadn't learned any Ars Conjunctionis (it was going on my to-do list _right now_ ) and so I _still_ needed a line of sight to work any magic on them.

"Hey! Little girl! Stop right there!"

Just before Achilles could seize me, I grabbed Cly's arm and threw us off the cliff.

Black, glittering stone rushed past as we plummeted into Tartarus, flailing wildly for any kind of purchase on the slick obsidian walls. Clouds of dark smoke billowed up and swallowed us whole, and all I could see was the occasional flare of orange light somewhere far below.

Flapping her arms wildly, Cly maneuvered over to me and latched on to my sleeve. "We have to write a new book on Hades! The one Irene lent you was so out of date!" she shouted above the howl of the wind. "We need to include maps too. No one has ever published a detailed map of the entire underworld! How long can we stay here?"

"Just until we find Thoren," I informed her. "We still have all those gods running amok and wreaking havoc on earth — and it's kind of our fault — remember?"

She groaned loudly. "You _still_ haven't learned your lesson, have you? You're still barging into the flow of history instead of observing it." Very generously, she refrained from mentioning all those paintings that lined Ynez's path to Hell.

After falling for what felt like years, my feet struck solid ground with a jarring impact, and I peered through the smoke warily at a stark volcanic landscape. Orange flashes pulsed on all sides, and without any landmarks, I had no idea where we were. Cly thumped down beside me, tried to discorporate back into my mind, and failed miserably.

"The prisoners are probably all loose and rioting," she muttered. "They'll take us hostage — or maybe just dismember us on sight. They're probably all completely crazy after millennia of punishment. This is such a bad idea. We should go back to the Elysian Fields at once."

A blessedly familiar voice called, "Marina!" and Ynez burst through the smoke with Zoe on her heels. "Oh good, there you are!" she exclaimed with relief. "Where are we? What do we do now?"

And here I was hoping that a mistress of Ars Manes could guide us through this Umbral pit. No such luck. Sighing, I rotated in a slow circle, but the smoke obscured everything more than a few feet away. "I guess I can use Ars Essentiae to fly us back up — " I started to propose.

Something flared in my satchel, burning so furiously that I could feel the heat even through my skirt and petticoat. With my blistered hand — no point in injuring the other one too — I pulled out the shard. It blazed with brilliant white light that burned a trail through the smoke. "Uh," I said, staring at it. "Uh, I think _Thoren's_ down here?"

"Why would he be down _here_?" Ynez demanded. "Thanos distinctly said he put him in the Elysian Fields, and that's where Astera's map says he is too."

"Maybe he fell, just like us?" I suggested.

She made a noise of disbelief. "Magister _Thoren_?"

She did have a point — I really couldn't picture Thoren even putting himself in a situation where he might accidentally fall off a cliff, _any_ cliff, much less a cliff into _Tartarus_ — but the shard's direction was clear. I said, "I can feel him that way."

"But didn't _Persephone_ give you that thing?" Ynez pointed out quite sensibly. "How do you even know you can trust it?"

I didn't, not really, except that it had been payment for services (pretty dramatic ones too) rendered, and I didn't believe that either Persephone or Demeter had deceived me. Of course, I hadn't believed either that Astera would deceive me — and look what happened there.

 _Seek wisdom_ , her words came again to me. But wisdom was in short supply in Tartarus.

"I don't know for sure that I can trust it," I admitted, "but it just feels right."

"It _feels_ right?" Zoe demanded. "What kind of pagan nonsense is that? Look, Ynez, maybe we should form a prayer circle and beg the Lord for guidance. Maybe He is testing us somehow."

Gods help me. I was not going to waste time sitting around and watching them pray. "You're welcome to do your prayer circle thing," I told them. "I'll just scout ahead." Before they could stop me, I jogged down the path that the shard had opened through the smoke.

"Wait!" Ynez dashed after me, and Zoe after her. Realizing that we were leaving her all alone somewhere in the bowels of the underworld, Cly yelped and scrambled after _them_.

Still bickering over the wisdom of trusting the goddess responsible for the Plague, we wound our way towards the center of Tartarus. The smoke slowly dissipated, allowing us glimpses of eerie black stone columns and bonfires burning in pools of lava. Whiplashes and screams tore through the air, and empty gallows and stocks loomed out of the darkness. Every time I caught sight of a shadowy figure, I jumped. But no one ever ambushed us.

At last we came to a large plain that stretched all the way into distance where the obsidian walls rose up towards the Asphodel Meadows. Here we saw all the inmates we'd been expecting. Staked out upon a flat rock, Tityos the Titan shrieked his torment as vultures tore open his belly and ripped out his liver. Bound to a tall metal spike struck over and over by lightning, Salmoneus charred and crisped, sizzled and healed, in perpetual atonement for daring to imitate Zeus. Overhead, Ixion spun at a dizzying speed on his burning wheel.

"There's Tantalus!" Cly cried, entirely forgetting her trepidation. She pointed urgently at a distant figure standing in a pool underneath a tree whose branches were gravid with fruit. "I _must_ interview him! Marina, I'll catch up with you later!" And she ran off, whipping out her quill as she went.

"This is how Tartarus is _supposed_ to be, isn't it?" Ynez asked me uncertainly.

I shrugged. It wasn't like I'd ever visited myself. "I _think_ so."

"But where's the rioting? Isn't there supposed to be a civil war? Thanos was so certain that disaster would come to pass after we, um, you know."

I was wondering the exact same thing. The underworld seemed to be doing just fine without its overseer. But then again, no one had ever claimed that Hades was omniscient, and even a master of Ars Temporis could be deceived, as Astera had demonstrated so dramatically.

As though impatient with our dithering, the shard pulsed again, shooting out a thread of light that sped straight towards a black castle at the exact center of the pit. At the top of its highest, iron-roofed tower, one of the Furies cracked her whip menacingly and set the rhythm for the punishments below. Hundreds of feet below her, the thin thread pierced the front door and vanished.

"Well," I said. "Thoren's in there. We can ask him when we see him."

"I will pray that you are right," Zoe replied.

* * *

When the three of us walked into what had once been Hades' throne room, we discovered why Thanos' predictions of chaos and anarchy had seemed wildly exaggerated. For there was Thoren in all his glory, directing the business of the underworld from a massive desk that bore surprising resemblance to the one in his workroom at the Acropolis, right down to its clutter of books and scrolls and random artifacts. His chair though — he'd dragged over Hades' ebony throne, inlaid with carved ivory panels and jewels, and was perched on its edge, hunched over a notebook.

"Ah, Marina," he said at my entrance, setting down his pen and looking up with an infuriatingly confident smile. "I've been expecting you."

And here I was thinking that we were on a heroic mission to rescue him from the clutches of cold, lonely death. I should have known that Thoren was no damsel in distress! All my visions of a romantic reunion shattered, and I was left facing the reality of the man.

A choked sound came from Ynez, and I looked over sharply to see her and Zoe wearing matching expressions of consternation. Well, I probably bore a third.

"What do you mean?" I asked warily, approaching Thoren's desk carefully and standing on the opposite side of it from him, just like a schoolchild again. Ynez and Zoe arrayed themselves just behind me, almost like bodyguards. "How can you have been expecting me?" Gods above, did he think House Criamon was so incompetent that we'd all _die_ without House Bonisagus there to save the day? Why did everyone underestimate us repeatedly and to their own detriment?

I was already on the urge of an explosion, but he surprised me with his response. "When I lay dying," he said simply, looking up at me with that warm smile I remembered from the first time I met him, when I was just a gawky thirteen-year-old and he a newcomer to Athens, "you promised me that you would find me, even if you had to brave the underworld itself. I believed you." Now that old omniscience entered his face, and he relaxed back into the embrace of that ridiculous throne. "As you can see, my faith has not been misplaced."

And he held out a hand to me.

Memories flashed through my head — Thoren pulling me into his lap the morning of our first lesson for our first kiss, Thoren stretching out a hand to carry me into his bedroom. Thoren warning me that as Primus of House Bonisagus, his time was not entirely his own, and that he could make no promises regarding our relationship. Always before, _he_ had set the tone and pace.

Did his new obligations to the denizens of Hades again supersede _my_ claim on him?

"I'm not staying here with you!" I blurted out. "I came down here to find you so I could bring you back to the real world. The world of the living."

His smile wavered very slightly as he dropped his hand. "Marina — " he began.

"Yes, I _know_ you're in charge here now, and you'll probably have all sorts of perfectly reasonable arguments for why the entire underworld will degenerate into chaos if you leave and you'll guilt me into believing that even _asking_ you to come with me is the very pinnacle of selfishness — "

Again I saw Astera's face as I had seen it the very last time, lit by the glorious light of the tenth Sphere and by the triumph of a centuries-old dream finally achieved. Again I felt the tightness in my throat as I choked back a plea for her to stay. _I love you, Mother. Don't leave me._

Oh come with me, Thoren, forsake the grave. We still have a life to live, and a world to save. But I couldn't say it, for the same reason that I couldn't ask Astera to stay.

A rustle behind me. Ynez stirred uneasily, started to lift a hand to place on my shoulder, and then twisted it into her skirts instead.

Thoren rose from his throne. "Come, Marina. Let me show you something." Without touching me, maintaining a proper distance, he escorted me to a grand map mounted on the wall that was marked with the locations of every entity in Hades. Motioning me to stand before it, he gestured across the breadth of the underworld. I saw Tantalus in his pool, Sisyphus at his stone, Ixion upon his flaming wheel. Across the Asphodel Meadows, frosted by those white spiky blossoms, drifted the souls of the everyday dead; and heroes and those beloved by the gods shouted and clamored in the Elysian Fields. All was right with the underworld, all in its proper place. I had no doubt that Thoren was responsible for this order.

Could I then take him from his task and his burden, in good conscience, for _love_?

No. I could not. I would not.

"I understand," I said in a trembling voice, staring at the distant figure of Salmoneus. "I really do." And I sighed, thinking of how far I had come, and how empty my life would feel without Thoren — and how much groveling I'd have to do before Ynez and Zoe would forgive me. Thanos would be insufferable.

I did face Thoren then, memorizing the shape of his face, the shade of his hair, the light in his eyes. "Truly I do," I repeated, and my voice didn't even waver. "I am the Secunda of House Criamon, and if I have learned anything in the past month, it is that sometimes our responsibilities must supersede our desires."

As I turned away, he caught my arm. "Yes," he said urgently. "Sometimes our responsibilities must supersede our desires. The operative word here being 'sometimes.'"

I looked up at him sharply, unable to breathe all of a sudden. "What are you saying?"

"Marina," he said, and he ran his hand through his hair in that old gesture of frustration. "Marina — I'm human. I've made mistakes — oh, more mistakes than you can possibly imagine." He drew a deep breath. "I was not entirely honest with you, that last morning, when we spoke of my reasons for going to Athens."

"I know," I confessed. "I read your diary." And I drew it out of my satchel to hold out to him.

"You read my _diary_?" I couldn't tell if he were shocked by all the color-coded bookmarks, or alarmed that I knew his innermost thoughts.

"Yes. I won't apologize for it, because — well, it's a long story involving the Muse of Tragedy and, well, it's very complicated." That was House Criamon's blanket explanation, wasn't it? "It's all right. I'm not angry about — " I still couldn't bring myself to say her name.

Looking somewhat dazed, Thoren accepted his diary and laid it on a nearby ledge. "Ah. I see. Then — then — " He shook his head as if to resettle his thoughts. "Then you see how in my youth I prioritized my work above those I loved, only to learn that while work is neverending, the ones I love are not immortal. I went to Athens to atone for that mistake, to redeem myself. And then I found you — but it was only because I died too soon that I did not repeat that mistake with _you_. And now I have a third chance, thanks to you and your — implausible — allies." He cast a drily amused glance over at Ynez, who was glaring at him across the throne room, and Zoe, who had pursed her lips and was shaking her head at all the pagan symbols.

We probably didn't have too long before her seraph started attacking Hades' throne.

Taking both of my hands, Thoren said in an intense voice, "What I'm trying to say is that I love you, my heart, and I would follow you to the furthest reaches of the Umbra if you wished." Then he smirked a little, ruining the solemnity of the moment. "Although, in this case, I think it more likely that I'd be following you back to Athens."

Joy like joy I hadn't felt in months burst inside me, and I tore my hands from his to throw my arms around his neck. "Really?" I cried. "Really truly?"

His arms wrapped around me and held me tight. "'Really truly,'" he repeated, the words sounding a little foreign on his lips. "I _was_ there at the funeral in spirit, you know, and I heard your poem. Far be it for me to refuse such a passionate plea."

And then finally — finally! — he kissed me.

At last it was Zoe's disapproving voice that recalled us to reality. "Marina bani Criamon! Thoren bani Bonisagus! May I remind you that you are _not_ yet married?"


	24. Monday April 12 to Friday March 27, 1491

**Monday April 12 to Friday March 27, 1491**

Reluctantly, I pulled away from Thoren just far enough to lean my forehead against his chest. The golden embroidery of his insignia, the emblem of a Primus of House Bonisagus, very nearly scratched me, and I realized with a pang that he still wore the formal robes from his funeral, the ones cut _just so_ to emphasize the wearer's power, which he had never needed to wear in life — and to which he would no longer be entitled after he left Hades.

Guilt filled my eyes with tears, and I was glad he couldn't see my face. "There's so much to tell you that I don't even know where to start," I said, the fabric muffling the catch in my voice.

Perhaps he heard it, or guessed, anyway, because he made no move to lift my chin. "It is generally accepted practice to start at the beginning," he said, drily but not entirely unsympathetically.

Bustling skirts heralded the arrival of Ynez's drab boots and Zoe's screaming pink slippers.

Very stiffly, in that overly polite voice she reserved for dealing with people she absolutely did not like and wished would just go away, Ynez greeted him. "Magister Thoren."

There was a heartbeat of silence during which each waited for the other to speak. When Ynez continued to stare at him, Thoren said with a degree of emotion I'd rarely heard from him, "Prima Ynez. I appreciate the rescue mission. Especially in light of the history between our Houses."

In a rebellious tone I'd rarely heard from _her_ , Ynez informed him tartly, "In light of my sister's categorical refusal to leave you down here, I couldn't _not_ accompany her." When Thoren accepted her reproof in silence, she added reluctantly, sounding more like herself, "Also, Magister Thoren, um, our House owes you a debt. I — I came down here to repay it."

"A debt?" Thoren looked honestly puzzled.

At the same time, Zoe objected, "I _hardly_ think House Criamon owes House Bonisagus any debts at this point, Ynez." I could practically feel her glare at Thoren. Having sacrificed her career and devoted her life to Ynez, she'd also very thoroughly adopted my sister's opinions on practically everything. (Except for Ynez's acceptance of Avaris' Buddhist teachings, of course. That, of all the things my sister had done, dismayed her. But Zoe hadn't given up returning Ynez to the true faith — and honestly, spent little time trying to. Maybe it formed part of her justification to the hierarchy of House Quaesitor for gallivanting all over Greece with us.)

"Yes, a debt," Ynez persisted. I turned my head just enough to see her jut out her chin stubbornly. "It is a debt of honor, in fact." With the expression of one mounting the scaffold — which she'd probably prefer to any kind of apology to the creator of the Obscura — she admitted, "House Criamon was in part responsible for your death, Magister, and for that I, on behalf of our House, needed to make amends."

Thoren's arms tightened around my back, but his voice was even as he replied, "Prima, I knew and accepted the risks of invading another Hermetic House. I absolve House Criamon of any guilt."

Under her breath, Zoe pointed out, "Especially since it was the one that got invaded in the first place."

 _Sotto voce_ , Ynez reminded her, "But Astera — Astera sort of made it happen…." Her voice trailed off.

"What do you mean, Astera made it happen?" Thoren demanded. He pulled back from me to look me in the face. "Marina, what exactly is going on?"

I couldn't bear to meet his eyes and studied the collar of his shirt instead. "It's complicated…," I hedged.

"Yes, I gathered as much," he said intensely. "So please enlighten me."

How angry would he be when he learned the truth? Would he repudiate me? Was this my just dessert for the destruction of Athens? "It turns out that Astera had a plan to, to Ascend — " I began hesitantly.

He interrupted immediately, "Was it connected to that thing tied around her heart? What was it anyway?"

I paused a second to see if Ynez would come to my rescue but no, she'd apparently decided to let the lovers sort out the truth themselves. "Um, so, um, Astera wasn't really Astera."

" _What_?"

"Um, she was really Despina Delios. She'd been transferring her heart from Prima to Prima — " I really wasn't doing a very good job explaining, was I? The longer I spoke, the more confused and exasperated Thoren looked. (Now I knew how Astera had felt during some of her Enochian lessons.) "Like I said, it's very complicated." He just raised his eyebrows, urging me to _get to the point._ "Er, right." Drawing a deep breath, I plunged into my confession. "Astera, I mean Despina, foresaw that to Ascend, she needed Thanos' knowledge of the paths to Hades, and to get _that_ she needed to put him on the loom — "

"Loom? What loom?"

" — and that the most likely way for that to happen was if — if I helped the mice — "

"The _what_?"

"The godlings. I mean, the children. The orphans. They call — called — themselves the mice — "

"Wait a minute," he broke in again. "What do you mean 'the godlings?' _What_ godlings?"

Annoyed, Zoe interjected, "How many times do we need to tell you, Marina? They're not gods. They're just spirits whom certain benighted cultures long ago worshipped as gods because our Savior had not yet — "

Thoren didn't even bother to look at her. "Marina. Explain yourself."

Picking at a frayed spot on my skirt (the exact habit I always scolded Ynez for — and that, come to think of it, she'd probably learned from _me_ ), I muttered, "The orphans were all bonded to ancient gods who'd lost their followers. Despina started doing it four hundred years ago so she could access their knowledge." While scouring the Hearth after the tidal wave, Ynez had discovered countless crates of books on obscure deities, each meticulously annotated with notes on where to find them and how to entrap them. Apparently, some of "ze missing time" Ghallim had noticed included Astera's journeys to retrieve lost gods and her subsequent loom rituals.

" _All_ the orphans? Even you?" I could practically see Thoren clicking various memories into place. "Is that why you asked me if you were entirely human?"

"Marina!" Ynez exclaimed, sounding betrayed. "You _swore_ you never told him anything about the children!"

"I didn't!" I protested. "Although if I could change _anything_ , it's that! I talked to Thoren before we found out about Cly and Mel. I just wanted to know if I were completely human! Which, as it turns out, I'm not!"

To my dismay, Thoren released me entirely and took a wary step away. "You're not completely human?" he asked in a neutral tone.

What happened to his assurances that he saw nothing wrong with me, but we could "deal with it together" if there were? Had he already forgotten, or — worse — regret them?

"No," I confessed in a low voice that even I could barely hear. "Tel and I — we're actually demigods."

"You're a demigod," he said flatly, no emotion whatsoever in that statement.

Ynez and Zoe exclaimed in unison and in the exact same exasperated voice, "She's _not_ a demigod!"

Ynez added, "There is no such thing! There is only God — and His Son who is another aspect of Him — and the Holy Spirit!"

I love you, sister mine, but you're not helping here.

Looking up at Thoren pleadingly — as pleadingly as Ynez had stared at Tiberius in the Areopagus when Leona tried to press extra charges — I appealed, "Does it really matter what I am? I'm still _me_." But my voice trailed off as I remembered just how upset and hurt and confused _I'd_ felt when I first learned that I wasn't fully human, and how slowly acceptance had come. Thoren was learning everything at once, along with the entire sordid story of Despina's ambition — and my role in it. Could I blame him if he, like Leona, renounced all connection with me? Especially when he had power and respect here in Hades, and would sacrifice both if he returned to earth?

Was it even right to ask him for that sacrifice?

At last, Thoren said tonelessly, "Please continue, Marina. You said something about helping the — mice."

This was the part I really didn't want to tell him. Except that I couldn't be a coward, not in front of Ynez and Zoe, and at the very least I owed him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I could not, absolutely could not allow him to leave Hades under false assumptions.

Swallowing hard, I forced out the words. "Astera foresaw that she would need my help to trap Thanos, and to get that, she needed to — _you_ needed to — to die." I couldn't even bear to look at his collar now. Instead, I stared at his shoes. "I — I'm so sorry, Thoren."

My Prima at last stepped in here. Soberly, she finished the tale: "And that is why House Criamon owes you a debt, Magister Thoren, and why we have come to repay it."

Zoe's silence echoed with her dissent.

Thoren's silence was impenetrable.

Finally I darted a glance at his face. It was perfectly impassive, his eyes distant as he processed the entire conversation. "I see," he said at last, and more heavily than I liked. "There is much about that last week that makes more sense now." Looking straight into my eyes, he asked seriously, "Marina, my dear, how much of your feelings were your own, and how much was Astera's doing?"

It took my breath away. Did he really doubt me? Here? Now? After everything I'd endured to reach him, he _doubted_ me?

But it _was_ a valid question — and one I probably should have anticipated.

I just didn't know how to answer him, how to convince him.

"No!" Ynez stamped her boot hard, the sound ringing throughout the throne room. "You will not speak like that to Marina! The _only_ reason Astera proceeded the way she did was that Marina — and why, I have no idea — loved you already!"

"If Astera were as devious as you both suggest she was, how can you be certain that she didn't manipulate Marina's emotions in the first place?" Thoren asked reasonably. "You can't deny that our entire relationship advanced very quickly."

"Because," Ynez shouted at him, "Astera did her Ars Temporis ritual _after_ the two of you had already started — " she flailed her arms around, unwilling to say the words — "and that was when she realized that she could use it! The timing doesn't make sense any other way! I have _no_ idea why Marina loves you, but she does. Magister Thoren, when she first got _involved_ with you, I told her that if you hurt her, I'd kill you. Maybe I can't kill you a second time, but if you hurt her now, I will chain you in Tartarus forever!"

"Ynez!" I protested. "Don't threaten him! You don't understand — "

"Don't understand what?" she ranted, turning on me next and releasing all her pent-up rage. "True love? Just because I'm younger than you? I'm sick and tired of everyone treating me like a child! I'm the Prima of House Criamon and the warden of the spirits — "

"I know!" I exploded. "You've told us so! Over and over! I get the point! And I'm sick and tired of hearing it!"

"Marina!" Zoe scolded, leaping into the fray. "Don't talk to your Prima that way!"

"She may be my Prima but she's also my _little sister_ and right now she's being insufferable!"

Thoren startled all of us by bursting into laughter. "House Criamon is as lively and eccentric as ever," he observed, effectively ending our fight — because all three of us turned murderous glares on him next. "I can see that I won't have a dull moment."

 _Won't have a dull moment._

"Does that mean you're coming with us?" I asked eagerly, looking as hopeful as Timo at his best.

"Yes, Marina," he said patiently. "I already told you that I would, didn't I? That is, I will as long as you're absolutely certain that this is what you want, and not what Astera manipulated you into wanting."

I was shaking my head vigorously even before he finished his sentence. "Never! This is _not_ Astera. This is all _me_ — Marina Cimon bani Criamon."

In deference to Ynez's and Zoe's delicate sensibilities, he restricted himself to patting me a few times on the shoulder. "Then it's settled," he announced, sitting back down on the throne and sketching a quick pattern on one of the armrests. Immediately, the doors flew open and a horde of spirits, including all the Furies, flooded in with an interminable stream of updates and concerns. It was like being in his workroom in the Parthenon all over again, except that this time he didn't offer me a seat. In fact, he kept all three of us standing. In between accepting reports and answering questions, he said in a businesslike way, "At some point, I would like a full, detailed account of Athenian events, but for now, Prima, Secunda, Adepta, is there anything else of which I should be aware?"

Completely forgetting that she bore a superior rank both here and on earth, Ynez shuffled her feet and then straightened her shoulders as if she were facing Astera in our mother's office. "Well, yes," she admitted, and, as Astera had trained each of us to do — and which we even sometimes did when we weren't too busy bickering — she delivered a concise summary of the status of Athens and the situation with Hestia and the other gods. At my prodding, she also explained the part about the Muses and how we planned to use them as replacement avatars.

Like Thanos', Thoren's eyes lit up at the prospect of having some modicum of power in the real world, even though Ynez had warned him that he'd have to build up his practical abilities all over again. "Excellent!" he said briskly. "Then I believe that we're done here, apart from the formal transfer of authority." Leafing through the papers scattered all over his desk — that he could find anything in that mess was a miracle on par with the Resurrection — he started stacking some of them. "Prima, warden of the spirits — " somehow he managed to say that without the slightest hint of mockery, how I had no idea because I certainly couldn't — "I have updated the Hadean Code, especially the sections related to the judgment of souls and the determination and enforcement of appropriate punishments." He nodded at Ynez's arsenal of divine weapons. "Given your possession of Hades' spear, I assume that you're now the ruler of the underworld and that I should turn over all relevant documentation to you?"

Clutching the spear, she actually recoiled a step. "No!" she exclaimed. "I'm not going to be Queen of Hell!"

"Ynez — " I started to say.

"No!" she snapped. "We have too much to do on earth! I can't afford to lock myself away down here. Nor do I wish to."

"Order will break down throughout Hades without its rightful ruler," Thoren lectured, sounding remarkably similar to Thanos. "If you have accepted that spear, Prima, then you have also assumed the responsibility for proper governance of the underworld."

"I refuse to be the Queen of the Damned!" Ynez repeated mulishly.

Before Thoren could prolong this fruitless argument, I leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Give her time. We'll talk her around." More loudly, I pointed out, "You did well enough maintaining order here even without the spear. Isn't there someone who can replace you? Like one of the Bonisagi?"

To my surprise, he looked uncomfortable and toyed with his documents. Reluctantly, he said, "I suppose there is someone who has been helping me with administrative duties, who could take over if necessary."

"Good!" Zoe said briskly. "Who is it?"

"Please summon your lieutenant so we can settle everything now," Ynez commanded. "The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can return to dealing with the gods. I mean the spirits."

Casting a quick, almost nervous glance in my direction, he suggested, "Let us delay this meeting. I will take you on a tour of your domain first."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Ynez shook her head definitively. "No. I am not interested in a tour. Let's meet your lieutenant and get everything over with." However she denied it, my baby sister _was_ now Queen of Hades, and here, in _her_ throne room, her word was law. The spearhead flashed once, in warning.

"I'll see where she is, then."

 _She?_

With no enthusiasm whatsoever, Thoren rose and tapped the corner of the map. Immediately a small dot lit up next to Tantalus' pool with a label next to it.

 _Inga_ , it read.

I couldn't believe it. All the hurt and wounded pride I had felt when I first read his diary crashed back down on me. "You went back to _her_?" I gasped.

"She is a fine administrator," he replied tersely.

"And no one else in this _entire_ underworld is?"

"She is intelligent, well organized, efficient, and diplomatic. Well, when she wants to be," he said shortly. "She was the best choice for my second-in-command."

Ynez, who had never succeeded in reading his diary through my curtain of hair, whipped her head back and forth between the two of us, looking completely bewildered by my hostility and his grimness. Zoe, perhaps inferring the truth, leaned down and whispered something, and Ynez's eyes flew wide open.

"No!" she whispered back.

"It has to be!" Zoe hissed.

I ignored both of them. With heavy skepticism, I asked, "Was she, really? Throughout the entire underworld, _only_ she would do?"

"Yes!" he said emphatically. "There is _no one_ I trust more."

Not even _me_?

Oh, that hurt, even though he was right. Maybe _especially_ because he was right. After all, I _had_ withheld crucial information from him; I _had_ allowed myself to be manipulated and exploited by my mother, even unto the destruction of my city and possibly large swathes of Europe. Thoren was right not to trust me without reservation. No one should.

But that didn't make me feel any better.

Furious, I demanded, "What about all your fine talk about knowing that I was coming for you? You didn't wait very long, did you?"

Thoren betrayed some signs of frustration. "When I arrived, I sought out _old friends_ ," he stressed. "That's not exactly a crime. Did you expect me to lock myself away like a hermit while I waited for you? How was I to know how long you'd take?" In a lower voice, he confessed, "I was lonely, Marina."

Even though he'd been accompanied by _ten_ of his mages? Completely unmollified, I asked incredulously, "So you chose _her_? Of all the people you could have chosen, you went back to _her_?"

Trying to reign in his anger, Thoren said tightly, "I've known Inga for longer than you've been alive, Marina. And yes, we were lovers for years, but she was my closest friend even before that. And she's just a friend now. You do know there is such a thing as staying friends with past lovers, right?"

Well, if we ever broke up, I certainly wasn't staying friends with _him_.

Off to the side, Ynez and Zoe exchanged uneasy looks. Ynez opened her mouth to say something — I don't know whether to me or Thoren — but Zoe shook her head quickly, and without a word, they tiptoed out of the room, herding the entire Hadean bureaucracy ahead of them. Neither of us acknowledged their exit.

Rationally, I could understand why Thoren might have been lonely — perhaps even a little intimidated — in the underworld, and why he might have preferred the company of an equal to that of his subordinates. But I wasn't in a rational mood. I was tired and stressed and, as Tel would say, I'd had the most awful month of my life — _plus_ I wanted that spectacular fight Thoren had averted by dying prematurely. He _had_ said he was looking forward to my harsh words. Well, he could have them.

"No!" I screamed at him. "I know no such thing! All I know is that I destroyed my reputation for you! Do you have any idea how _mean_ everyone was after you died? And then I destroyed my home for a chance to save you, and everyone thought I was crazy to want to bring you back and kept trying to talk me out of it and I was completely miserable and now I've finally found you but you're back with your ex-lover! The one you kept writing poems to, and comparing me to in your diary! Can't you see how this looks? Everyone's going to say that I'm an idiot for coming down here at all!"

"Stop acting like a self-centered child!" Thoren shouted back, losing his temper at last. "If you want to discuss why we're all _here_ right now, it's because your House made some unbelievably reckless, dangerous, selfish decisions!"

"It was not my fault!" I shrieked, as I had at Leona. "It was Despina who bound Hestia! I didn't even know about it! I didn't know anything!"

Cruelly, he retorted, "Then maybe you shouldn't be Secunda of your House." Shocked, I took a step back, but he rose from the throne and advanced on me. "You have _always_ had choices, Marina bani Criamon. From what Ynez has said, you _chose_ to bond with one of the Muses, and you _chose_ not to tell me about the dual nature of the children — " that was a low blow, considering that I had confessed it as one of my deepest regrets — "and you _chose_ to follow the mice's lead and implement Astera's plan without even ascertaining its end goal!"

"We couldn't _talk_ about it!" I protested, my voice going all high-pitched and wavering out of control. Somewhere along the line, the direction of this fight had changed entirely and careered onto a very raw, painful subject for both of us. "It wouldn't have worked if we had!"

"Marina — when you're this powerful, you _cannot_ embark upon a world-changing scheme without making sure that you understand each part of it and exactly how it will work! It was your _choice_ to say no!"

Without even intending to, I began to cry, and it made me angrier. "Well I'm sorry if I'm not omniscient! I'm sorry if I wanted to bring you back and make things right! I made the best choices I could with the only information I had at the time, and if I had to go back and do it all over again with the same information, I'd do the exact same thing!" I sniffled ferociously at him.

"Great," he said in disgust. "Tears? Really, _Secunda_?"

"Yes!" I shouted at him. "In case you haven't noticed, I've just had the most awful month of my life — I lost practically my entire family _and_ my home _and_ my city. And on top of all of that, I started dating a complete jerk!"

Spinning on my heel, I stormed off into the depths of Tartarus. Cly was planning a book on all the realms of Hades, wasn't she? Well, it should be only too easy to find some truly awful people down here (Thoren included) to interview.

* * *

A couple hours later, I was perched near the top of a tree, doing my best to question Sinis, whose traveller-murdering career had been ended by Theseus. My distant relative had bent the tips of two pine trees to earth, tied Sinis' hands to one and his feet to another, and then released the trees, ripping him apart. With his finely honed sense of poetic justice, Thanos had replicated Theseus' strategy: Tied forever between great pine trees that threatened to tear him in two, the murderer writhed in eternal agony.

At the moment, he was suffering a novel kind of torment.

"Yes," I said with exaggerated patience, "but I need to know how you _felt_ when you learned Theseus' identity. What thoughts went through your mind? Did you realize that he was going to kill you? What did you think of him?"

"What did I _think_ of him? What do you think I thought of him?" he bellowed.

"That's not very helpful," Cly said primly from the other tree, quill at the ready. "Can you be more precise?"

"Oh Hades have mercy on me!" he cried. "If I'd known that I'd be subjected to the torturous interrogation of third-rate historians, I'd never have harmed an ant!"

"Third-rate historian?" Cly puffed up indignantly. "I am the Muse of History herself!"

"The second-rate historian that inspires the prattlings of third-rate historians then!"

A low chuckle drifted up to us before Cly could murder him a second time. At the base of my tree stood Thoren, peering up at me through the branches. "Marina, you've been up there for an hour!" he called. "Ynez and Zoe are getting worried. Will you come down now?"

So Ynez and Zoe were worried, but _he_ wasn't? "No!" I yelled back down defiantly. "I'm perfectly comfortable up here and I'm doing important work!"

Sinis moaned very loudly at that.

With an equally loud sigh, Thoren leaped up and heaved himself onto the lowest branch. "Very well then, we can talk in the tree," he said, straightening and reaching for the next branch.

Sulkily I watched his progress. I could have used Ars Essentiae to lift him up, but he was the one who'd scolded me over and over for my casual use of vulgar magic. He could climb. A man of his years probably needed the exercise anyway.

When he reached me at last, Sinis appealed to him, "Please, can't you remove both of them? Haven't I been tortured enough for my crimes, my lord?"

"Actually, I've abdicated," Thoren informed him. "And you don't know Marina bani Criamon at all if you believe one can simply _remove_ her from somewhere she wants to be."

For all his faults, he had always treated me with respect.

"I don't want to know her at all," the murderer moaned.

Cly poked him with her quill. "Go on, Marina," she encouraged me. "I can finish interviewing Sinis. Just make sure you remember your exact conversation with Thoren. It might be relevant for our history."

I supposed I did have to patch things up with him eventually?

Although I was tempted to fly down and leave him to struggle his own way out of the tree, I took one look at his tentative smile and couldn't do it. I had, after all, trekked all the way into the depths of the underworld to find this man. And Zoe would probably say that pettiness was unworthy of a Secunda. With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, I took Thoren's hand and floated both of us down, hoping that he wouldn't want to talk about our fight or, gods forbid, our _feelings_. I'd had more than enough of talking about my feelings for the day. Possibly the month. Maybe even the year. Somewhere in the middle of interviewing the Danaides, who'd slaughtered their husbands on their wedding night, I'd reluctantly accepted Thoren's argument that he could have a perfectly platonic relationship with his ex-lover, but that didn't mean I wanted to _discuss_ it.

Luckily, he seemed to be of the same opinion, and he inquired conversationally after how the interviews were going and offered suggestions on how Cly and I could structure our book, until my anger had dissipated entirely. Sensing a detente, Thoren draped an arm around my shoulders and said casually, "While I was in the Elysian Fields, I devoted some time to the study of Foci. Based on back-of-the-envelope calculations, I believe that for a given Effect, there's a tradeoff between the precision and consistency of using the exact same rune — or carving — every time, against the flexibility of tailoring it to the situation. It's an interesting optimization problem, and I was thinking that we could collaborate while I'm building up my practical abilities with my new avatar. It will be a good project to introduce you to magical theory…."

And so ended our quarrel. There would be many more, of course, in the years to come, because Thoren's arrogance and my irascibility were bound to clash (spectacularly) from time to time. Indeed, the early days, when both of us were struggling to adjust to the altered balance of power between us, were a special trial to everyone around us.

One of the most memorable fights (which all of us were very careful _never_ to mention) occurred before we could even exit the underworld. Failing to see Ynez's spear in the gloom, the Hecatoncheires, those hundred-handed giants who patrolled the outskirts of Hades, sounded the alarm and attacked us. As one seized a hundred boulders to hurl, I screamed, "Thoren! Stay back!"

As we'd journeyed back towards earth, Thoren's powers had waned, and by this point he had no more practical ability than a Sleeper scholar of magical practices. Several times I'd caught him lifting his hand to trace a rune, only to drop it again a little forlornly. However, he'd never said anything, and, unsure of how to console him, I'd pretended not to notice — until now. I was used to protecting people in fights, yes, but not people who were entirely defenseless!

Frantically I hacked at a piece of wood to throw up an Ars Essentiae shield around him. In my terror, the only shape that came to mind was a basket — because you could catch rocks in a basket, right? (Later, when I reviewed the events, it wouldn't make sense to me either.)

"Go hide with Cly!" I ordered. My avatar had already wisely ducked behind a large rock.

Stumbling forward instead of obeying my command, Thoren shouted over the giants' warcries, "Marina! Don't improvise! Carve something you're familiar with! Like a shield!"

Terrified that he'd get himself killed, and heedless of his pride, I screamed back, "Go away! Leave me alone! I know what I'm doing!"

Unfortunately for my argument, I botched the Effect and the wood burst into flames, scorching the hand already blistered by that idiot three-headed dog. With a sharp cry, I dropped wood and pocketknife alike.

A boulder the size of one of Hestia's fireballs nearly crashed into Zoe, who barely threw herself to a side and rolled out of the way.

"I am the warden of the spirits!" Ynez screamed at the giants, brandishing her spear wildly. "You will let us pass!"

Zoe shrieked, "Watch out!" as a massive hand the size of a bear swiped at Ynez.

Trying to jump backward, Ynez tripped over her own hem and tumbled onto the rocky ground, hitting her head so hard that she nearly lost consciousness. Directing her seraph to attack the giant in a flurry of sword strokes, Zoe leaped to her side and struggled to free Hestia's sword. But the scabbard was twisted awkwardly under Ynez, and Zoe couldn't work the blade loose. "Ynez! Ynez! Wake up!" she screamed instead, using Ars Mentis to revive my sister.

Still panicking, I scrabbled around on the ground for anything I could carve, but found nothing but rocks and dirt. Ynez moaned and stirred and groped weakly for the spear shaft, but one of the gigantic hands slammed down and nearly mashed her and Zoe. Losing my head entirely, I shrieked out some Enochian — half conjugated, half declined, in a garbled mess of the Criamoni and Bonisagi dialects — and melted a rock into a rough bowl shape, using Ars Vis to create a Focus for Ars Essentiae.

"For the love of Odin, Marina!" yelled Thoren, who apparently had no sense of self-preservation and _still_ wasn't running away. " _What are you doing_?"

It _was_ an incredibly ridiculously convoluted thing to do. But it worked. As another massive hand hurtled down to crush us to pulp, it rammed into a dome of hardened air. The giant recoiled and roared in pain, but a network of cracks erupted across the dome.

"Marina!" Thoren grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "Stop doing party tricks! Use Ars Vis to shield us!"

Oh, right. We were in the Umbra. If ever there were a time for Ars Vis shields, this was it.

Another hand slammed down on the dome, and my Effect exploded into shards of glass that speared at us and the giants alike. Scrambling to her feet and dragging Ynez back, Zoe shouted Biblical passages at the giants in a head-on Ars Mentis attack.

"My spear…," Ynez said weakly. "I need my spear…."

Darting forward in a surprisingly courageous move, Cly scooped it up and shoved it at her before running away to cower behind a tree.

"Repeat after me!" Without releasing me, Thoren shouted a string of Enochian. "Marina, say it! Now!"

I repeated it as fast as I could, and a shell of white light blazed up around each of us.

Holding her spear aloft and waving it back and forth until the tip burned fiery patterns in the mist, Ynez bellowed, "Hecatoncheires, I command you to cease your attack! I am the warden of the spirits and the queen of the underworld! You will let us pass!"

All of a sudden, the giants went deathly still, three sets of eyes transfixed by the spear. At last, their leader rumbled, "Apologies, mistress," and dropped to his knees. The other two followed suit, shaking the ground with the impact.

Hastily clutching at Zoe's arm to steady herself, Ynez replied regally, "Your apology is accepted. Do not let this happen again. Now go, and let us pass."

Instantly, the giants stood and strode away.

Before the ground had even stopped trembling beneath their footsteps, Thoren yelled at me, "Marina, what in Odin's name were you doing? You cannot afford to lose your head like that!"

"I — " I started to defend myself, but he overrode me, which was probably a good thing since I didn't know how to justify my actions either.

"Marina bani Criamon, an Adepta Maior, and especially the Secunda of a House, cannot _ever_ lose her head in the middle of a battle!" he raged at me. "Your conduct was completely unacceptable! You could have gotten everyone killed! _You_ could have died! I can't do magic anymore, Marina — if you freeze during combat, I can't save you!"

Except that he had, by telling me exactly what to do. "But — " I protested. I'd only panicked because I'd been too worried about _him_ , but I didn't know how to say so without insulting him.

Ynez didn't exactly help matters by barging into our fight. "Magister Thoren," she said sternly. "Marina is _my_ second-in-command. _I_ will discipline her when I see fit."

Both of us flinched, Thoren at the reproof, me at the prospect of being scolded or even punished by my little sister.

Regaining his composure first, Thoren replied gracefully, "I apologize, Prima, that my concern for Marina led me to overstep my bounds."

Ynez raised her eyebrows at me, looking more like Thoren than she'd ever admit. Gods, were we all picking up one another's habits now?

Sighing, I hung my head and muttered, "Sorry, Ynez. It won't happen again."

To my surprise, it was Zoe who came to my defense. "It was a very human response to a stressful situation. In House Quaesitor, we train daily so that we do not freeze in combat. Ynez, perhaps before we confront Hestia and the others, we should institute a training regime."

"That is an excellent idea," Ynez approved. "Please draw up a plan after we return to earth. I will ask Tessa if we can stay with her for a little longer while we prepare."

As she led the way back into that ridiculously ornate hallway, Zoe, who'd turned pink with pleasure at Ynez's praise, followed closely on her heels. I hesitated before crossing the threshold, and Cly slipped up to me. "There, there," she said, trying clumsily to comfort me. "That was only to be expected. I did warn you to stay out of historical events."

"I would if I could!" I said in exasperation.

"We shouldn't fall too far behind," Thoren warned. "Come on, Marina, Cly."

In a dazzling display of emotional maturity, I refused to speak to or even look at him for the next mile or so of histrionic paintings. While I stormed after Ynez and Zoe, fuming over his (admittedly fairly well-justified) tongue-lashing, Thoren and Cly trailed along behind me, conversing animatedly about magical history and critiquing various treatises.

When Thoren gauged that my stomping had decreased sufficiently in intensity, he caught up and said easily, as if I'd been part of their conversation all along, "Cly and I were just saying that House Criamon's style really reminds us of House Tytalus. Its motto is ' _Incrementum ex certamine_ ,' after all."

 _From conflict, growth_. That _did_ sound like us.

"Plus it specializes in Ars Essentiae," Thoren continued. "All of you practice Ars Essentiae, don't you?"

Seizing the opportunity he'd given me, I replied in a halfway normal voice, "Everyone except for Ghallim. Although I guess he's not technically a member of House Criamon anyway."

"Growth through conflict," Cly mused (haha). "That really should be your motto. Maybe you should all switch Houses. Individuals do so not infrequently — you yourself know Leona bani Bonisagus, formerly Bjornaer — and off the top of my head, I can think of several instances where entire Hermetic Houses rebranded themselves. That is much less common, of course, and it requires permission from the ruling councils of both the old and new Houses — "

"We'll consider it, Cly," I said quickly before she could start reciting all the regulations and bylaws of Houses Criamon and Tytalus.

Thoren caught my eye and quirked an inquiring eyebrow at me, and I smiled back.

Up ahead, a bar of golden light overwhelmed the candles and revealed a sunlit vision of the plains of southeastern Greece. In the distance, I could see farmers bent over plows for spring planting, Tessa gesturing imperiously over the fields, Jamie raising his head sharply from a book — and much closer, Tel loping towards us followed by the human figures of his parents. At their feet gamboled Timo, still a dog but no longer a puppy. There was _no_ way I was sharing a pillow with him anymore. We probably couldn't even fit in the same bed.

"Welcome back!" Tel shouted, waving enthusiastically. "Did you find him?"

"Of course they did!" Jamie yelled gleefully, slamming the book shut and dashing towards us.

As soon as Ynez stepped out of the Umbra, Tel picked her up and swung her around in a circle, completely ruining her dignified return. Zoe cleared her throat very emphatically and repeatedly until he finally set Ynez back down. "Marina!" he exclaimed, running to me next and hugging me hard. "There you are! I can't believe it took you a whole _year_! Oh, hi, Magister Thoren. I hope you're less of a jerk now?"

I groaned very loudly. "Tel!" I hissed and elbowed him, just as I had the first time the two of us had met Thoren — right before Jamie tackled me from behind and Timo barreled into my legs and nearly knocked me over.

As he had at that first meeting, Thoren hid a smile at the informality and enthusiasm of Criamoni greetings. "It is a pleasure to meet you again too, Telemachus," he said gravely.

A pointed 'ahem' from Lily finally reminded Tel of his manners. Stepping back and looping his arms through his parents', he said proudly, "May I present Gustavus and Laelaps? They're my parents!"

After the obligatory flurry of introductions and explanations — complicated and, er, enlivened by our tendency to shout all at the same time and over one another while bracing ourselves against Timo's slobbering onslaughts — Tel drew a deep breath and asked the set of questions he'd never learned to stop asking. "So, what happened? What did I miss?" Then — "Wait, Marina, do I _want_ to know?"

"Well," I replied, not even bothering to hide a smirk. "We might rebrand ourselves as House Tytalus."

A very long, stunned silence from everyone but Thoren, who doubled over with muffled laughter, and Cly, who observed us alertly, quill poised over parchment.

And then, in unison from Tel, Ynez, Zoe, Jamie, Gus, Lily, and even Tessa: " _WHAAAAAAT_?"

Ah, the sweet sounds of home.


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Somewhat to our own surprise — but not that of anyone else — Ynez and I did eventually switch Houses. After a few years of chasing Hestia all over the Eurasian landmass, trying to shunt her and her firestorms into Tartarus so she'd stop burning everyone's crops, we suddenly remembered Thoren's facetious suggestion. In the finest expression of growth through conflict, Ynez composed a polite but firm letter to the ruling council of House Tytalus apprising them of their newest branch, and informing them that we were officially based in Athens at the Forgotten Orphanage but in practice could be found anywhere there was a Greek mythological personnage on the rampage.

Their response came while we were arguing with Tessa over whether it was ethical to transform the occasional mortal into seed grain during famines (a dispute out of which Tel wisely stayed, pleading a need to accompany his energetic, four-legged brother on long walks in the countryside). With great satisfaction, Thoren and Urania, the Muse of Astronomy, scanned the Tytalan letter with his freshly re-acquired Artes Vis, Essentiae, Fati, Conjunctionis, and Materiae abilities, and I checked it using Tel's Ars Animae skills. (Having learned the basics of Ars Conjunctionis from Thoren at last, I could draw on our Twin Soul-ness even at a distance.) Then Ynez broke the seal and read aloud the most unenthusiastic welcome to a House ever. The secretary provided the date and location of the next general conference — in script so tiny that it practically begged us not to attend.

We showed up at the House Tytalus Domus Magna in Normandy anyway, Ynez flanked by her bear and her Inquisitor, me hand in hand with my revenant lover, accompanied by our entourage of one towering Norwegian (Leif had joined us as soon as he heard of Thoren's return), one ancient fox god, and one former King of the Dead. None of the Tytalans protested our presence.

They'd all heard about the bear.

* * *

Tel, ironically the most sensible out of all of us, declined to join our quest to right our mother's wrongs. As soon as he heard that Ynez had inherited all of Thanos' debts and enemies as well as his powers, he hastily switched to House Bjornaer and settled down with Verrus, his parents, and his brother. Worried that Timo might be lonely without canine companions, Tel began adopting every stray he came across and essentially founded an orphanage for dogs. Astera, I thought, would have been amused but unsurprised.

Although I missed both my Twin Soul and my dog, I had to admit that they were much happier living semi-peacefully in the plains of southeastern Greece than trekking all over Eurasia with us. (Of course, any modicum of peace Tel enjoyed had been bought by our labors, but I didn't begrudge him that.) Whenever our duties allowed — or when the winters in northern Europe became too unbearably cold — Ynez and I visited them.

* * *

In the meantime, Ghallim consecrated his life to protecting and nurturing Athens. Despina's exit had removed the Marauder-wrought stability that had cushioned the city, and now the population was periodically ravaged by divine battles (between Hestia and Poseidon, or Hestia and Demeter, or — on one particularly destructive occasion — pitting Poseidon, Hestia, Persephone, and Demeter against Ares and Aphrodite). To Persephone's disappointment, Ghallim declined to conquer Greece or even rule Athens. Instead, he preferred to focus on transforming what had begun as our Plague energy storage ring into the most powerful Node in Europe. It was Clodius' favorite protegee, a reformed Red named Diana, who eventually rose to become mayor of Athens, and though rumor had it that she curried ties to the Order of Reason, she did nothing to persecute mages or interfere with Ghallim's work, so he left politics to her. (Ynez and I were less enthusiastic, especially after Diana sent a spy to steal Athena. The spy failed. We sent his remains back to the Bouleuterion along with a polite note of condolences.)

In the end, Ghallim imbued his creation with his very consciousness, allowing the Node to subsume his body and his mind. And so the Forgotten Orphanage remained a holy site of sorts, providing Athens with both Quintessence and wisdom — even if Ynez's and my sporadic residence in the Hearth continued to discourage pilgrims.

* * *

After several years of living in sin — just long enough to prove to Zoe and Ynez (and everyone in Athens, really) that I was _not_ succumbing to social pressure — I finally accepted Thoren's marriage proposal. Our wedding turned into a reunion, as Leif persuaded a reluctant Leona to attend for old times' sake (she traveled all the way from France, under the pretext of consulting Thoren on some obscure point of magical practice or other). Unexpectedly, Avaris' reincarnation showed up, smiling in that gentle way of his at the incoherence of our attempt to fill him in on everything that had happened.

In a somewhat less welcome development, Tel's and my entire extended family crashed the ceremony. Even though the gods came with the best of intentions for a truce, Dionysus brought his bottomless wineskins, Ares his bellicose attitude, and Hestia her "villain talk" that provoked everyone. Suffice it to say that Thoren and I barely managed to exchange our vows before the entire affair degenerated into a not-entirely-friendly, but not-entirely-murderous brawl. It was, as Thoren (still bani Bonisagus) pointed out, an appropriately Tytalan wedding.

* * *

Needless to say, recruiting apprentices proved challenging, as even the boldest adventurers looked askance at our peripatetic and perilous lifestyle, but Thoren and I decided to raise our children in the Tytalan tradition, and two generations had diluted Mnemosyne's divinity sufficiently that they were all born with normal avatars. Probably as a side effect of their upbringing, they all Awakened young.

Ynez and I supposed that this was one way of increasing our House.


End file.
